THE  GRAFTON  HISTORICAL  SERIES 

Edited    by  HENRY   R.   STILES,   A.M.,   M.D. 


The  Grafton  Historical  Series 
Edited  by  Henry  R.  Stiles,  M.D.,  A.M. 


In  Olde  Connecticut 

By  Charles  Burr  Todd 
12mo.    Cloth,  $1.25  net  (postage  lOo. ) 


In  Prett 

Historic  Hadley 
By  Alice  Morehouse  Walker 


King  Philip's  War 

By  George  W.  Ellis  and 
John  B.  Morris 


IN 

OLDE  CONNECTICUT 

BEING    A    RECORD    OF    QUAINT,    CURIOUS 

AND    ROMANTIC     HAPPENINGS    THERE 

IN    COLONIE    TIMES    AND    LATER 


CHARLES   BURR  TODD 

Author  of  "  The  True  Aaron  Burr,"  "  The  History  of  Redding 
Connecticut " 


THE   GRAFTON   PRESS 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1906, 
BY  THE  GRAFTON  PRESS. 


Editor's  Introduction  to  the  Series 

The  ' '  return  to  the  soil "  of  the  well-to-do, 
which  has  been  one  of  the  most  noteworthy  ten- 
dencies of  American  life  during  the  last  decade, 
has  been  accompanied,  naturally  enough,  by  an 
increased  interest  in  old  ways  and  days,  old  houses, 
old  china,  old  furniture  and  old  fabrics.  The  in- 
evitable result  of  this  American  renaissance  has 
been  a  growing  desire  to  know  the  humorous, 
pathetic  and  dramatic  legends,  traditions  and  his- 
torical incidents  which  are  associated  with  them, 
in  order  to  put  them,  so  to  speak,  into  their 
proper  setting. 

The  episodes,  legends  and  traditions  which  the 
more  formal  historians,  for  the  most  part,  have 
considered  beneath  their  notice  are  hidden  away 
in  letters,  diaries,  journals  and  scrap  books  ;  docu- 
ments in  files  of  old  newspapers,  the  logbooks  of 
vessels,  the  entries  in  family  Bibles,  the  inscrip- 
tions in  moss-grown  cemeteries  and  the  records  of 
town  meetings.  They  are  to  be  found  for  the 
searching  in  the  dark  corners  of  garrets  and  the 
secret  drawers  of  old  secretaries.  They  are  to  be 
gleaned  from  the  confidences  of  the  local  anti- 
quarian, the  recollections  of  the  proverbial  "  old- 


2012517 


vi  Introduction 

est  inhabitant,"  the  chatter  of  the  good  wives  at 
the  village  sewing-circle,  the  "  yarnings  "  of  the 
worthies  of  the  village  grocery  store,  and  from  the 
speeches  and  the  sallies  of  the  "  Old  Home  Week 
Reunion."  To  collect  and  combine  into  a  coher- 
ent whole  these  varied  historical  data  is  the  pur- 
pose of  the  series  of  which  this  book  is  the  initial 
volume. 

It  will  attempt  an  adequate  presentation  of  the 
picturesque  in  American  history.  It  will  rehabil- 
itate the  life  of  our  ancestors  with  a  vividness 
rivalling  that  of  the  historical  novel,  and  with  a 
fidelity  to  fact  of  which  the  former  is,  in  the  very 
nature  of  the  case,  incapable.  By  so  doing  it  will 
give  body  to  our  sentiment  for  the  fact,  provide 
an  effective  background  for  our  Americanism  and 
add  a  welcome  perspective  to  our  patriotism.  It 
will  aid  us  powerfully  as  a  nation  to  assign  a  rea- 
son for  the  faith  that  is  in  us. 

The  main-travelled  road  is  all  well  enough  in 
its  way  for  the  person  whose  sole  aim  is  to  reach 
a  given  destination  with  the  greatest  possible  ex- 
pedition ;  but  it  is  only  by  forsaking  the  main- 
travelled  road,  now  and  then,  for  the  bypaths  of 
the  meadows,  the  pastures  and  the  woods,  that 
one  may  hope  to  become  intimately  acquainted 


Introduction  vii 

with  all  the  resources  and  beauties  of  the  region 
through  which  it  leads.  The  byways  of  history 
are  vastly  more  charming  than  its  highways  and 
every  whit  as  significant  in  the  last  analysis. 

"  The  stone  which  the  builders  refused  is  become 
the  head  stone  of  the  corner.'1'' 

HENRY  REED  STILES,  A.M.,  M.D. 

HILL- VIEW,  NEW  YORK. 


FOREWORD 

fT^O  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Connecticut 
who  love  her  history  and  traditions  this 
little  book  is  dedicated.  Many  of  the  uncon- 
sidered  trifles,  curious  episodes,  bits  of  quaint 
and  curious  lore  here  brought  together  were  dug 
out  of  mines  never  before  explored  by  the  literary 
craftsman.  They  were  first  printed  in  various 
respectable  journals  such  as  Lippincott's  Maga- 
zine, The  Youth's  Companion,  The  Magazine  of 
American  History,  The  New  York  Evening  Post, 
etc.,  but  are  now  for  the  first  time  collected  and 

issued  in  book  form. 

C.  B.  T. 
REDDING,  CONN.,  February  6,  1906. 


CONTENTS 

I  THE  HISTORIC  BURR  MANSION  AT 

FAIRFIELD 1 

II  THE    BURNING   OF    FAIRFIELD    BY 

THE  BRITISH         .        .         .         .11 

III  WHALEBOAT     PRIVATEERSMEN     OF 

THE  REVOLUTION          .         .         .21 

IV  SAYBROOK  AND  GUILFORD       .         .     52 

V   KlLLINGWORTH  AND  ITS  BlRDS  .      61 

VI  NEW  LONDON,  AN  OLD  TIME  SEAPORT    70 

VII  GROTON  AND  MYSTIC      .        .        .98 

VIII  FISHER'S  ISLAND     .        .        .        .115 

IX  THE  FROGS  OF  WINDHAM        .        .  128 

X  LEBANON,  THE  HOME  OF  JONATHAN 

TRUMBULL  ....  133 

XI  MOUNT  TOM,  A  HAUNTED  HILL      .  142 

XII  A  REVOLUTIONARY  NEWGATE          .  153 

XIII  CONNECTICUT'S    DECLARATION    OF 

INDEPENDENCE     ....  177 

XIV  ANCIENT  LITCHFIELD       .        .        .  186 
XV  MINING  IN  CONNECTICUT         .        .  196 

XVI  THE  PEQUOT  INDIANS     .        .        .208 


x  Table  of  Contents 

XVII  GREENFIELD  HILL,  A  ONCE  FAMOUS 

VILLAGE 217 

XVIII  THE    BEGINNINGS    OF    A    GREAT 

RAILROAD 225 

XIX  THE    PROBATE    JUDGE    AND    THE 

TOWN  CLERK  .  235 


IN  OLDE  CONNECTICUT 


IN  OLDE  CONNECTICUT 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    HISTORIC    BURR    MANSION    AT    FAIRFIELD 

1HAVE  dwelt  for  some  weeks  near  the  site  of 
the  old  Burr  mansion  house  in  this  beautiful 
Connecticut  village,  and  in  these  few  days  have 
become  all  that  the  most  zealous  antiquary  could 
require.  I  have  passed  whole  days  in  delving 
amid  the  musty  records  of  the  town  and  parish 
religiously  preserved  in  the  vaults  of  the  town 
hall.  I  have  held  frequent  chats  with  ancient 
gentlemen  whose,  recollections  extend  beyond  the 
Revolution  to  the  palmy  days  of  this  village,  and 
I  have  enjoyed  the  friendship  and  confidence  of 
the  Oldest  Inhabitant,  whose  reminiscences  go 
back  to  the  founding  of  the  village  itself,  which 
occurred  soon  after  the  pious  and  utter  extermina- 
tion of  the  bloodthirsty  Pequots  in  a  neighboring 
swamp.  Most  freely  have  been  placed  before  me 


2  In  Olde  Connecticut 

family  papers  and  legends  sacredly  preserved,  and 
the  result  is  a  mass  of  materials,  legendary  and 
historic,  which  the  public,  if  it  has  the  least  flavor 
of  antiquity  in  its  composition,  will  be  interested 
in  knowing,  and  which  I  shall  impart  as  freely, 
if  not  as  gracefully,  as  it  was  delivered. 

Every  New  England  village  with  any  preten- 
sions at  all  to  antiquity  has  its  ancient  mansion 
house  about  which  local  traditions  cluster,  and 
whose  very  walls  are  permeated  with  the  subtle 
aroma  of  the  past.  Fairfield  was  no  exception  to 
this  rule,  and  its  Burr  mansion  house  has  as  good 
a  title  to  historic  fame,  perhaps,  as  any  of  the 
oldtime  dwellings  of  Middlesex. 

Tradition  says  that  it  was  built  about  1700  by 
Chief  Justice  Peter  Burr,  one  of  the  earliest 
graduates  of  Harvard,  Chief  Justice  of  Connecti- 
cut, and  who  once  lacked  but  a  few  votes  of  be- 
coming its  Governor.  The  house  stood  some- 
what back  from  the  village  main  street  on  a 
slight  eminence  beneath  a  canopy  of  elms,  and, 
with  its  dormer  windows,  its  projecting  gables 
and  ivy-covered  wings,  presented  quite  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  manorial  structure,  the  effect  of 
which  was  increased  on  entering  its  wide  hall 
with  its  heavy  oaken  stairway,  or  in  wandering 


Historic  Burr  Mansion  at  Fairfield          3 

about  its  chambers  with  their  lofty  walls,  tiled 
fireplaces  and  heavy  oak  panelings. 

At  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  the  period  to 
which  our  recollections  are  limited,  this  mansion 
was  owned  by  Thaddeus  Burr,  Esq.,  a  grandson 
of  Judge  Peter  Burr,  a  gentleman  of  culture  and 
ample  estate,  and  who  like  many  of  the  colonial 
gentry  exercised  an  ample  hospitality. 

The  ancient  chronicles  record  with  pride  that 
General  Washington  in  his  journeyings  from 
New  York  to  Boston  was  his  frequent  guest. 
Franklin,  Lafayette,  Otis,  Samuel  Adams,  Quincy, 
Watson,  Governor  Tryon,  Dr.  Dwight,  the  poet 
Barlow,  are  on  the  house's  bead-roll  of  famous 
guests.  There  Trumbull  and  Copley  dreamed 
and  painted,  the  latter  doing  full  length  portraits 
of  his  host  and  hostess  which  are  still  preserved 
in  the  family.  Governor  Hancock  was  married 
there,  his  foster  mother,  Madam  Hancock,  died 
there.  Colonel  Aaron  Burr  passed  many  of  his 
youthful  days  there  as  the  guest  of  his  cousin  (not 
uncle  as  Parton  has  it),  Thaddeus  Burr. 

This  fact  is  recorded  by  the  old  chroniclers  with 
special  pride,  nor  was  it  difficult  to  discover  the 
reason.  Burr's  family  was  of  the  bluest  blood  of 
New  England  and  had  been  seated  in  Fairfield 


4  In  Olde  Connecticut 

for  generations.  His  father,  the  Rev.  Aaron 
Burr,  the  famous  divine  and  real  founder  of 
Princeton  College,  was  a  native  of  Fairfield,  Judge 
Peter  Burr,  before  mentioned,  was  his  granduncle. 
Colonel  Andrew  Burr,  who  led  the  Connecticut 
regiment  in  the  brilliant  attack  on  Louisbourg 
in  1745,  was  a  cousin,  and  his  family  for  genera- 
tions had  filled  the  various  offices  of  state  from 
deacon  in  the  Puritan  churches  to  magistrates, 
deputies  and  judges  of  the  courts.  Nor  can  one 
of  those  imbued  in  the  ancient  traditions  of  the 
village  be  made  to  admit  that  Burr  was  any  other 
than  a  bitterly  persecuted  man,  who,  as  has  been 
said,  suffered  the  fate  of  those  who  come  into 
the  world  a  hundred  years  before  their  time,  and 
who  was  crushed  by  bigots,  by  the  Federalists 
whom  his  defection  to  democrary  had  incensed, 
and  by  the  powerful  Virginia  clique  which  his 
election  to  the  Presidency  had  raised  up  against 
him. 

To  this  mansion  of  historic  fame,  in  May,  1775, 
came  Miss  Dorothy  Quincy,  daughter  of  Edmund 
Quincy  of  Boston,  who  had  moved  for  three  years 
as  the  belle  of  the  polite  circles  of  that  town,  and 
who  was  now  the  affianced  bride  of  Governor 
John  Hancock.  A  few  weeks  before  she  had 


Historic  Burr  Mansion  at  Fairfield          5 

witnessed  the  battle  of  Lexington  from  the  cham- 
ber window  of  the  house  where  she  was  visiting, 
spiritedly  refusing  Governor  Hancock's  command 
to  return  to  Boston  and,  after  the  battle,  had  fled 
with  Hancock  and  Samuel  Adams  to  the  protec- 
tion of  her  father's  old  friend  in  Fairfield,  Thad- 
deus  Burr.  She  was  accompanied,  we  learn,  by 
a  chaperone  in  the  person  of  Madam  Hancock, 
widow  of  Thomas  Hancock,  the  great  Boston 
merchant,  and  uncle  and  foster  father  of  John 
Hancock.  The  beauty,  wit,  grace  and  dignity 
of  this  lady  the  gossips  never  weary  of  descanting 
on,  and  it  is  plainly  to  be  seen  that  they  regard 
her  residence  in  their  village  as  an  event  which 
added  measurably  to  its  historic  fame. 

Some  two  or  three  days  after  Miss  Dolly's 
advent,  a  young  cavalier  rode  into  the  village  from 
the  West  and  alighted  at  the  old  mansion  house. 
He  was  dressed  in  the  height  of  fashion.  His 
sword  clanked  in  its  scabbard  at  his  side,  and  the 
village  critics  observed  that  he  rode  with  the  style 
and  bearing  of  a  prince;  this  cavalier  was  Aaron 
Burr,  then  a  youth  of  twenty  years,  in  the  first 
flush  and  beauty  of  manhood,  who  had  come  on 
a  visit  to  his  favorite  kinsman  Thaddeus  Burr. 
When  the  young  people  were  presented  in  the 


6  In  Olde  Connecticut 

parlors  of  the  mansion  house  that  evening,  it  is 
said  their  surprise  and  pleasure  were  mutual,  and 
it  is  more  than  hinted  by  the  gossips  that  conse- 
quences destructive  of  Governor  Hancock's  peace 
of  mind  might  have  ensued  had  not  the  sage 
counsels  of  the  elders  prevailed  over  youthful 
passion  and  folly.  It  is  at  least  true  that  Miss 
Dolly  wrote  a  letter  to  a  bosom  friend  not  long 
after  in  which  she  spoke  of  Burr  as  a  handsome 
young  man  with  a  pretty  fortune,  and  complained 
of  the  extreme  caution  of  her  aunt  who  would  not 
allow  them  to  pass  a  moment  alone  in  each  other's 
society.  It  has  been  said  of  Aaron  Burr,  with 
hundreds  of  other  unkind  things,  that  he  never 
refused  a  flirtation,  yet  his  conduct  on  this  occa- 
sion was  honorable  in  the  extreme.  Whether  it 
was,  as  cousin  Thaddeus  is  said  to  have  hinted, 
that  he  could  not  afford  to  have  so  powerful  a 
man  as  Governor  Hancock  for  his  enemy,  or 
whether,  as  is  more  probable,  thoughts  of  war 
filled  his  mind  to  the  exclusion  of  those  of  love, 
certain  it  is  that  on  this  occasion  he  fled  from 
temptation  and,  making  a  hasty  departure  from 
the  mansion  house,  he  set  off  for  Litchfield  where 
he  entered  upon  his  legal  studies  with  his  brother- 
in-law  Judge  Tappan  Reeve.  Nor  did  he  re- 


Historic  Burr  Mansion  at  Fairfield          7 

visit  the  mansion  house  that  summer  except 
briefly  in  July  when  with  his  friend  Ogden  he 
passed  through  the  town  on  his  way  to  the  con- 
tinental camp  before  Boston.  Miss  Dorothy, 
however,  passed  the  stirring  days  of  that  eventful 
summer  in  the  ancient  village  whiling  away  the 
time  as  best  she  might.  She  rode,  she  sang,  she 
boated;  she  accompanied  the  young  people  to 
their  "feasts  of  shells,"  on  the  neighboring 
beaches;  she  conducted  harmless  flirtations  with 
the  village  youths,  her  aunt  having  relaxed  her 
vigilance  after  Burr's  departure;  she  wrote  letters 
to  her  Boston  intimates,  some  of  which  still  re- 
main, and  every  fortnight  the  lumbering  mail 
coach  brought  her  a  packet  from  Philadelphia, 
addressed  in  the  sturdy,  upright  and  downright 
characters  of  John  Hancock;  for  that  worthy, 
after  a  brief  stay  in  the  village,  had  gone  on  with 
Adams  and  others  to  hold  the  first  continental 
Congress  in  Philadelphia.  One  of  these  letters 
was  shown  me,  having  been  preserved  as  a  most 
precious  relic.  It  is  addressed  to  "My  Dear 
Dolly"  and  is  superscribed  "For  Miss  Dorothy 
Quincy  at  the  house  of  Thaddeus  Burr  in  Fair- 
field."  It  was  a  cold,  formal,  unloverlike  epistle, 
and  from  the  nature  of  girls  was  no  doubt  very 


8  In  Olde  Connecticut 

unsatisfactory  to  the  fair  one  for  whom  it  was 
intended. 

In  this  way  the  summer  days  passed,  and  when 
the  autumn  purple  and  gold  began  to  gather  on 
the  Fairfield  elms  a  grand  wedding  was  celebrated 
in  the  old  mansion  house — no  less  an  affair  than 
the  marriage  of  Governor  John  Hancock,  Presi- 
dent of  the  Continental  Congress,  to  Miss  Dorothy 
Quincy,  daughter  of  Edmund  Quincy  of  Boston. 
One  can  but  admire  the  thoroughness  of  detail, 
the  nicety  of  finish,  the  old-fashioned  enthu- 
siasm, with  which  the  village  chroniclers  describe 
the  event.  We  see  Governor  Hancock,  attended 
by  a  retinue  of  distinguished  men — gentlemen, 
delegates,  and  others  returning  to  their  homes — 
ride  up  from  the  West,  followed  shortly  after  by 
a  more  glittering  train  from  the  East  with  pranc- 
ing steeds  and  costly  equipage  and  attended  by 
gay  cavaliers  on  horseback — the  friends  of  the 
bride.  There  is  Edmund  Quincy,  and  there  are 
Edmund  Quincy's  friends  of  Boston,  grave,  sober 
men  and  matrons  of  high  degree,  with  gallant 
young  cavaliers  attending  on  stately  maidens — 
near  and  dear  friends  of  Miss  Dolly,  and  all  of 
the  bluest  blood  of  that  ancient  town.  To  swell 
this  train  of  beauty  and  worth  Hartford  and  New 


Historic  Burr  Mansion  at  Fairfield          9 

Haven,  even  then  the  seats  of  a  cultured  and  re- 
fined society,  had  contributed  their  quota;  and 
it  is  even  said  that  later  in  the  day  the  Governor 
and  his  staff  added  the  grace  of  their  presence  to 
the  festive  scene. 

At  nightfall,  when  the  mansion  was  brilliantly 
illuminated,  the  mild  radiance  of  the  lamps 
beamed  on  a  courtly  throng,  and  on  costumes 
that  would  have  made  their  wearers  presentable 
at  the  court  of  King  George  himself.  Indeed,  at 
this  period  of  their  narrative  the  chroniclers  grow 
a  little  wearisome  detailing  so  minutely  as  they 
do  the  elaborate  toilets  of  the  ladies,  the  coiffures 
sprinkled  with  diamond  dust,  the  long-waisted 
gowns,  the  shimmer  of  silks  and  satins,  the  rib- 
bons, laces  and  ruffles,  the  priceless  gems  that 
gleamed  on  shapely  wrists  and  snowy  shoulders. 

Nor  were  the  gentlemen  forgotten,  for  just  as 
minutely  were  described  the  glossy  queues,  the 
plum-colored  coats  and  velvet  small-clothes,  the 
white  silk  stockings,  the  elaborate  ruffles  at  wrist 
and  throat,  which  formed  the  costumes  of  the 
male  portion  of  that  august  assemblage. 

In  the  midst  of  this  grand  array,  before  Par- 
son Andrew  Eliot  of  the  Fairfield  church,  the 
stern-browed  Governor  and  the  blushing  Dorothy 


10  In  Olde  Connecticut 

plighted  their  mutual  vows  after  the  simple  ritual 
of  the  Puritan  faith. 

With  the  blessing  of  Parson  Eliot  the  old 
chronicler  closes  his  account  of  the  wedding,  but 
it  is  said  that  the  merrymaking  was  only  kept 
up  until  the  morning,  and  that  the  next  day  the 
whole  bridal  train  set  out  for  Boston,  leaving  the 
old  mansion  to  its  wonted  composure  and  quiet. 
This  was  the  last  merrymaking  ever  held  within 
its  walls. 

During  the  four  years  of  war  which  followed 
it  was  the  scene  of  many  secret  conclaves  of  the 
patriot  leaders,  and  in  the  British  descent  on 
Fairfield  in  1779  the  house  was  burned  in  the 
general  conflagration  of  the  village — a  very  partic- 
ular account  of  which,  by  the  way,  is  given  in  the 
"Travels"  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Dwight. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE     BURNING    OF     FAIRFIELD     BY    THE    BRITISH 

TN  1879  Fairfield  celebrated  in  a  fitting  man- 
-*•  ner  the  centennial  anniversary  of  the  burn- 
ing of  the  settlement  by  the  British  on  the  seventh 
and  eighth  of  July,  1779.  To  Governor  Tryon 
belongs  the  inception  and  success  of  that  enter- 
prise, and  on  him  the  stigma  of  the  disgraceful 
deed  will  ever  rest.  Tryon,  it  may  not  be  gen- 
erally known,  had  a  special  grudge  against  Con- 
necticut, the  sturdy  little  colony  having  opposed 
and  thwarted  him  in  a  variety  of  ways.  Her 
dragoons  had  scattered  the  types  of  his  newspaper 
organ  through  the  streets  of  New  York;  her  "  Sons 
of  Liberty"  had  plotted  against  him  even  in  his 
own  city,  and  she  had  treated  with  contempt  his 
proclamations  inviting  her  to  return  to  her  alle- 
giance, even  printing  them  in  her  gazettes  as  speci- 
mens of  the  Governor's  pleasant  humor.  When 
an  expedition  was  fitted  out  to  humble  her  it  was 
natural  that  a  man  like  the  Governor  should  be 


12  In  Olde  Connecticut 

selected  as  the  director  of  its  movements.  Rea- 
sons also  existed  for  making  Fairfield  a  special 
object  of  attack.  The  village  had  always  wielded 
great  political  influence,  which  it  had  steadily 
exerted  in  favor  of  rebellion;  one  of  her  sons, 
General  Silliman,  was  then  in  command  of  one  of 
Washington's  brigades;  another,  Colonel  Abra- 
ham Gould,  had  fallen  two  years  before  in  the 
skirmish  at  Ridgefield,  a  rebel  in  arms ;  Mr.  Thad- 
deus  Burr,  a  resident  enjoying  great  prominence  in 
the  colony,  was  then  publishing  addresses  inciting 
the  people  to  resistance,  and  there  were  a  score  of 
families  in  the  town  who  were  among  the  most 
bitter  and  influential  foes  of  the  British  Crown. 
One  who  depends  upon  the  historians  for  his 
knowledge  of  the  attack  will  find  it  dismissed 
with  only  a  meager  notice,  but  from  a  private 
letter  written  by  the  Rev.  Andrew  Eliot  of  the 
church  at  Fairfield,  who  was  an  eyewitness  of 
the  scene,  a  very  clear  and  circumstantial  account 
of  the  outrage  may  be  gleaned.  Mr.  Eliot  was  a 
son  of  the  celebrated  Rev.  Andrew  Eliot,  so  long 
pastor  of  the  Old  North  Church  of  Boston;  he 
was  an  able  divine  and  good  man;  it  would  be 
hard  to  find  a  more  interesting  bit  of  history  than 
his  simple,  yet  vivid  narrative  of  the  burning  of 


Burning  of  Fairfield  by  the  British       13 

Fairfield.  The  letter  containing  it  is  addressed 
to  his  brother,  the  Rev.  John  Eliot,  in  Boston, 
and  is  dated  at  Fairfield  seven  days  after  the 
events  narrated  occurred.  It  is  given  below  al- 
most entire: — 

"It  was  in  the  beginning  of  wheat  harvest,  a 
season  of  exceeding  labor  and  festivity;  a  season 
which  promised  the  greatest  plenty  that  has  been 
known  for  many  years  within  the  memory  of 
man.  Never  did  our  fields  bear  so  numerous  a 
load,  never  were  our  prospects  with  regard  to 
sustenance  so  bright. 

"  The  British  fleet  and  army  with  the  American 
refugees  that  had  possessed  and  plundered  New 
Haven  set  sail  from  that  distressed  place  on  the 
sixth  about  four  o'clock.  Next  morning  the  ap- 
proach of  the  fleet  was  announced  by  the  firing 
of  a  small  gun  we  have  on  Grover's  Hill,  contigu- 
ous to  the  Sound.  They  seemed,  however,  to  be 
passing  by  and  at  about  seven  o'clock  we  with 
pleasure  beheld  them  all  to  the  westward  of  us 
steering,  as  we  thought,  for  New  York.  A  very 
thick  fog  came  over,  which  entirely  deprived  us 
of  a  sight  of  them  until  between  the  hours  of  nine 
and  ten  o'clock  when  the  mist  clearing  away  we 
beheld  the  whole  fleet  under  our  western  shore, 


14  In  Olde  Connecticut 

and  some  of  them  close  in  under  Kensie's  Point. 
They  presently  came  to  anchor  and  lay  until  four 
in  the  afternoon  when  they  began  to  land  their 
troops  a  little  to  the  eastward  of  Kensie's  Point 
at  a  place  called  the  Pines.  From  thence  the 
troops  marched  along  the  beach  until  they  came 
to  a  lane  opposite  the  center  of  the  town,  through 
which  they  proceeded,  and  in  about  one  hour 
paraded  in  three  divisions  on  the  green,  between 
the  meetinghouse  and  courthouse.  From  there 
they  detached  guards  and,  dividing  into  small 
parties,  proceeded  to  their  infernal  business. 
Their  commanding  officers  were  Sir  George  Col- 
lier by  sea  and  Generals  Tryon  and  Garth  by 
land. 

"  The  approach  of  the  fleet  was  so  sudden  that 
but  few  men  could  be  collected,  though  alarm  guns 
were  fired  immediately  on  the  dissipation  of  the 
fog. 

"  There  was  no  thought  of  opposing  their  land- 
ing as  our  forces  were  nothing  to  theirs;  our  little 
party,  however,  posted  themselves  so  as  to  annoy 
them  to  the  best  advantage.  The  town  was  al- 
most cleared  of  inhabitants;  a  few  women,  some 
of  whom  were  of  the  most  respectable  families  and 
characters,  tarried  with  a  view  of  saving  their 


Burning  of  Fairfield  by  the  British        15 

property.  They  imagined  that  their  sex  and 
character  would  avail  to  such  a  purpose;  they 
put  some  confidence  in  the  generosity  of  an  enemy 
who  were  once  famed  for  generosity  and  polite- 
ness, and  thought  that  kind  treatment  and  sub- 
missive behavior  would  secure  them  against  harsh 
treatment  and  rough  usage.  Alas!  they  were 
miserably  mistaken,  and  bitterly  repented  their 
confidence  and  presumption. 

"The  Hessians  were  first  let  loose  for  rapine 
and  plunder;  they  entered  houses,  attacking  the 
persons  of  Whigs  and  Tories  indiscriminately; 
breaking  open  desks,  trunks  and  closets,  and 
taking  away  everything  of  value.  They  robbed 
the  women  of  their  buckles,  rings,  bonnets,  aprons 
and  handkerchiefs;  they  abused  them  with  the 
foulest  and  most  profane  language,  and  threat- 
ened their  lives  without  the  least  regard  to  their 
earnest  cries  and  entreaties;  looking-glasses,  china, 
and  all  kinds  of  furniture  were  soon  dashed  to 
pieces.  Another  party  that  came  on  were  the 
American  refugees,  who,  in  revenge  for  their 
confiscated  estates,  carried  on  the  same  direful 
business.  They  were  not,  however,  so  abusive  to 
the  women  as  the  former  party,  but  appeared 
very  furious  against  the  town  and  country.  The 


16  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Britons  by  what  I  could  learn  were  least  invet- 
erate; some  of  the  officers  seemed  to  pity  the 
misfortunes  of  the  country,  but  in  excuse  said 
they  had  no  other  way  to  regain  their  authority 
over  us.  Individuals  among  the  British  troops 
were,  however,  exceedingly  abusive,  especially  to 
women.  Some  were  forced  to  submit  to  the 
most  indelicate  and  rough  treatment  in  defence 
of  their  virtue,  and  now  bear  the  bruises  of  horrid 
conflict. 

"About  an  hour  before  sunset  the  conflagra- 
tion began  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Isaac  Jennings, 
which  was  consumed  with  the  neighboring  build- 
ings. In  the  evening  the  house  of  Elijah  Abell, 
Esq.,  Sheriff  of  the  county,  was  consumed  with 
a  few  others,  and  in  the  night  several  buildings 
on  the  main  street.  General  Tryon  was  in  various 
parts  of  the  town  plot,  with  the  good  women  beg- 
ging and  entreating  him  to  save  their  houses. 
Mr.  Sayre,  the  Church  of  England  missionary, 
joined  with  them  in  these  entreaties.  He  begged 
the  General  to  spare  the  town,  but  was  denied. 
He  then  begged  that  some  few  houses  might  be 
spared  as  a  shelter  for  those  who  could  procure 
habitations  nowhere  else;  this  was  denied  also. 
At  length  Mr.  Tryon  consented  to  save  the  houses 


Burning  of  Fairfield  by  the  British       17 

of  Mr.  Burr  and  of  the  writer  of  this  epistle; 
both  had  been  plundered  long  ere  this.  He  said 
likewise  that  the  houses  for  public  worship  should 
be  spared.  He  was  far  from  being  in  good  tem- 
per while  in  the  town.  General  Garth,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  town,  treated  the  inhabitants 
with  as  much  humanity  as  his  errand  would 
admit.  .  .  .  All  the  town  from  the  bridge  by 
Colonel  Gould's  to  the  Mill  River,  a  few  houses 
excepted,  was  a  heap  of  ruins. 

"  About  eight  o'clock  next  morning  the  enemy 
sounded  a  retreat.  We  had  some  satisfaction 
amidst  our  sorrow  and  distress  to  see  that  the 
meetinghouse  and  a  few  other  buildings  re- 
mained, but  the  rear  guard  composed  of  banditti, 
the  vilest  ever  let  loose  among  men,  set  fire  to 
everything  that  General  Tryon  had  left,  the 
large  and  elegant  meetinghouse,  the  minister's 
house,  Mr.  Burr's  and  several  other  houses  that 
had  received  protection.  They  tore  the  protec- 
tion to  pieces,  damned  Tryon,  abused  the  women 
most  shamefully,  and  then  ran  off  in  a  most  dis- 
graceful manner.  Happily  our  people  came  in 
and  extinguished  the  flames  in  several  houses,  so 
that  we  are  not  entirely  destitute.  The  rear 
guard  which  behaved  in  so  scandalous  a  manner 
B 


18  In  Olde  Connecticut 

were  chiefly  German  troops  called  Yagers. 
They  carry  a  small  rifle,  and  fight  in  a  skulking 
manner,  like  our  Indians. 

"Our  fort  yet  stands;  the  enemy  sent  a  row 
galley  to  silence  it,  and  there  was  constant  fir- 
ing between  them  all  night;  one  or  two  attempts 
to  take  it  were  made  by  parties  of  troops,  but  it 
was  most  bravely  and  obstinately  defended  by 
Lieutenant  Isaac  Jarvis  of  this  town,  who  had 
but  twenty-three  men  beside  himself.  Many 
were  killed  on  both  sides;  the  number  cannot  be 
ascertained.  They  carried  off  some  prisoners, 
but  no  persons  of  distinction.  Our  friend 
Joseph  Bartram  was  shot  through  the  breast. 
Old  Mr.  Solomon  Sturgis,  an  Irish  servant 
of  Mr.  Penfield's,  and  a  negro  man  belong- 
ing to  Mr.  Lewis  were  put  to  death  by  the 
bayonet. 

"The  distress  of  this  poor  people  is  inexpres- 
sible; a  most  pleasant  and  delightful  town  in 
flames;  what  a  scene  did  the  eighth  of  July 
present !  But  I  must  forbear.  Everything  I  have 
written  you  may  depend  upon  as  a  fact.  My  pen 
has  not  been  guided  by  prejudice,  whether  my 
feelings  are,  and  should  you  publish  this  letter 
every  reader  may  be  assured  that  there  is  not  the 


Burning  of  Fairfield  by  the  British        19 

least  deviation  from  what  actually  took  place  upon 
this  melancholy  occasion.     Yours,  etc., 

"ANDREW  ELIOT." 

A  picturesque  though  somewhat  grandiloquent 
account  of  the  burning  is  given  in  those  delight- 
ful chronicles  the  "Travels  of  Dr.  Dwight,"  a 
few  paragraphs  of  which  will  prove  an  interest- 
ing supplement  to  Mr.  Eliot's  narrative.  After 
describing  the  attack,  the  capture  of  the  town 
and  the  burning  of  the  Burr  mansion,  which  he 
says  was  done  by  order  of  Governor  Tryon,  he 
proceeds  thus: 

"  While  the  town  was  in  flames  a  thunderstorm 
overspread  the  heavens,  just  as  night  came  on. 
The  conflagration  of  nearly  two  hundred  houses 
illuminated  the  earth,  the  skirts  of  the  clouds, 
and  the  waves  of  the  Sound  with  a  union  of 
gloom  and  grandeur  at  once  inexpressibly  awful 
and  magnificent.  The  sky  speedily  was  hung 
with  the  deepest  darkness  wherever  the  clouds 
were  not  tinged  by  the  melancholy  luster  of  the 
flames.  At  intervals  the  light  played  with  a 
livid  and  terrible  splendor;  the  thunder  rolled 
above;  beneath,  the  roaring  of  the  flames  filled 
up  the  intervals  with  a  deep  and  hollow  sound, 


20  In  Olde  Connecticut 

which  seemed  to  be  the  protracted  murmur  of 
the  thunder  reverberated  from  one  end  of  heaven 
to  the  other;  add  to  this  the  convulsion  of  the 
elements,  and  these  dreadful  effects  of  vindictive 
and  wanton  devastation,  the  trembling  of  the 
earth,  the  sharp  sound  of  muskets  occasionally 
discharged,  the  groans,  here  and  there,  of  the 
wounded  and  the  dying,  and  the  shouts  of  tri- 
umph; then  place  before  your  eyes  crowds  of 
miserable  sufferers,  mingled  with  bodies  of  militia 
from  the  neighboring  hills,  taking  a  farewell  pros- 
pect of  their  property  and  dwellings,  their  happi- 
ness and  their  hopes,  and  you  will  find  a  just  but 
imperfect  picture  of  the  burning  of  Fairfield.  It 
needed  no  great  effort  of  the  imagination  to  be- 
lieve that  the  final  day  had  arrived,  and  that  amid 
the  funereal  darkness  the  morning  would  speedily 
dawn  to  which  no  night  would  ever  succeed,  the 
graves  yield  up  their  inhabitants,  and  the  trial 
commence  at  which  was  finally  to  be  settled  the 
destiny  of  man." 


CHAPTER  III 

WHALEBOAT  PRIVATEERSMEN  OF  THE  REVOLUTION* 

THERE  was  one  phase  of  our  revolutionary 
struggle  peculiar  in  itself,  and  as  interesting 
as  a  romance  because  of  the  skill,  heroism  and 
enterprise   it   developed,   which   historians   have 
failed  to  limn  in   striking   and  positive   colors, 

*  As  showing  the  solicitude  of  the  patriot  leaders  for  this 
arm  of  the  service,  note  the  following  letter  from  General 
Putnam  written  at  his  camp  in  Redding  to  Lieut.  Col.  Gray 
in  command  of  the  whaleboats: 

"  Head  Qtrs  Reading 

"  25th  Jany  1779 
"SIR 

"  Some  time  ago  Genl  Parsons  directed  you  at  my  request  to 
have  the  whaleboats  repaired  and  put  in  the  best  situation  for 
use.  I  now  desire  that  you  will  make  me  a  Return  of  the 
number  of  Boats  fit  for  service  under  your  care  and  as  soon 
as  conveniently  may  be. 

"  Inclosed  is  a  letter  for  Gen.  Silliman  which  you  will  for- 
ward by  Express 

"  I  am  Sir 

"  Your  Most  Obdt  Servant 

"ISRAEL  PUTNAM 
"  Lieut.  Col.  Gray  " 


22  In  Olde  Connecticut 

partly,  perhaps,  because  the  necessary  data  were 
difficult  to  obtain,  and  partly  because  the  subject 
was  not  deemed  of  sufficient  importance  to  justify 
so  great  an  expenditure  of  labor.  I  refer  to  the 
whaleboat  warfare  waged  chiefly  between  the  To- 
ries of  Long  Island  and  the  Whigs  of  the  seaboard 
towns  of  Connecticut,  and  carried  on  across  the 
waters  of  the  narrow  Sound  that  separated  the 
hostile  parties.  This  warfare  began  with  the  out- 
break of  hostilities  in  1775,  continued  to  the  peace 
of  1783,  and  affected  the  entire  coasts  of  both 
communities,  from  Stamford  to  New  London  on 
the  Connecticut  shore,  and  from  Throgg's  Neck 
to  Sag  Harbor  on  the  Long  Island  coast.  The 
Cowboys  and  Skinners  of  the  lower  Hudson  were 
organized  gangs  of  plunderers  who  harried  friend 
and  foe  impartially.  The  warfare  between  Staten 
Island  and  the  New  Jersey  shore  was  largely  a 
neighborhood  skirmish,  the  partisan  warfare  at 
the  South  a  conflict  of  clans;  but  the  whaleboat 
service  of  the  Sound  combined  the  characteristics 
of  all  three,  and  to  these  added  several  peculiar 
features  of  its  own,  such  as  spying  on  the  enemy, 
trading  in  goods  declared  contraband  by  the  Brit- 
ish, and  abducting  prominent  gentlemen  to  be  held 
as  hostages  or  for  exchange.  As  for  the  origin  of 


Whaleboat  Privateersmen  23 

this  peculiar  service,  it  is  found  in  the  political 
condition  of  the  two  communities  at  the  outbreak 
of  hostilities,  and  in  the  organizations  known  as 
whaling  companies,  which  could  be  employed  only 
in  a  predatory,  intermittent  warfare.  Connecti- 
cut was  intensely  Puritan  and  Republican;  Long 
Island,  settled  by  the  conservative  Dutch  and  by 
English  gentlemen  whose  sympathies  were  en- 
tirely with  the  mother  country,  was  as  intensely 
monarchial  and  loyal.  The  guns  of  Lexington 
made  these  two  communities  bitter  enemies. 

The  whaling  companies  of  which  mention  has 
been  made  had  existed  all  along  shore,  on  both 
sides  of  the  Sound,  from  the  earliest  times,  and 
were  very  perfect  organizations  in  their  way. 
They  were  originally  formed  for  the  capture  of 
whales,  at  one  time  as  plentiful  in  the  Sound  as 
later  in  Delagoa  Bay  or  on  the  Brazil  Banks. 
Even  the  Indians  were  engaged  in  their  pursuit, 
and  a  law  was  passed  as  early  as  1708  for  their 
protection  from  any  molestation  or  detention  while 
thus  employed.  A  company  comprised  from 
twelve  to  thirty  men,  each  owning  its  boats  and 
whaling  gear,  and  prosecuting  its  enterprise  inde- 
pendently of  the  others.  The  business  long  neg- 
lected was  renewed  by  Robert  Murray  and  the 


24  In  Olde  Connecticut 

brothers  Franklin,  who  fitted  out  a  sloop  in  1768. 
In  1772  the  vessels  were  exempted  from  tonnage 
dues,  and  in  1774  the  United  Whaling  Company 
was  formed  with  Philip  Livingston  for  its  presi- 
dent. It  seems  to  have  been  closed  in  July,  1776, 
by  such  of  the  members  as  remained  in  the  city 
of  New  York.  The  business  had  nearly  died  out 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution,  yet  the  com- 
pany organizations  were  still  retained,  and  the 
outbreak  of  hostilities  found  little  squads  of  men 
all  along  the  shore  thoroughly  equipped  and  drilled 
for  partisan  service.  No  general  combination 
seems  to  have  been  effected;  the  Tories  usually 
acting  under  commissions  from  the  British  au- 
thorities, and  the  Whigs  as  a  part  of  the  militia 
of  their  State.  The  objects  of  the  different  expe- 
ditions, as  before  hinted,  were  various;  sometimes 
they  took  the  form  of  reprisals  on  the  enemy, 
sometimes  they  carried  spies,  who  penetrated  the 
hostile  ranks,  and  returned  with  valuable  infor- 
mation. Again,  they  captured  prominent  persons, 
who  were  held  as  hostages  or  as  prisoners  of  war. 
Sometimes  they  were  expeditions  against  the  en- 
emy's war  vessels,  garrisoned  posts  or  military 
supplies,  and  not  infrequently,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
they  degenerated  into  mere  plundering  excursions. 


Whaleboat  Privateersmen  25 

Having  thus  glanced  at  the  preexisting  condi- 
tions of  the  warfare,  it  will  be  interesting  to  con- 
sider in  detail  some  of  the  more  noteworthy 
exploits  of  these  hardy  privateersmen.  First,  and 
perhaps  the  most  remarkable  of  these,  was  the 
expedition  of  the  lamented  Captain  Nathan  Hale, 
whose  tragic  story,  often  told,  seems  to  gain  fresh 
interest  with  each  recital.  Washington,  it  will  be 
remembered,  after  his  retreat  from  Long  Island, 
desired  a  thoroughly  competent  person  to  visit  the 
enemy's  camp  and  report  his  numbers  and  plans 
in  full.  Captain  Hale,  young,  talented,  but  two 
years  out  of  college,  the  idol  of  the  army,  volun- 
teered his  services.  "I  have  been  nearly  a  year 
in  the  service  without  doing  anything  of  moment 
for  my  country,  and  now  that  an  opportunity  offers 
I  dare  not  refuse,"  he  said  in  answer  to  the  re- 
monstrances of  his  friends.  Washington  accepted 
the  sacrifice,  and  the  chivalrous  young  patriot  at 
once  began  preparations  for  the  enterprise.  To 
cross  over  directly  from  New  York  to  Brooklyn 
into  the  enemy's  camp  would  court  discovery,  but 
to  pass  eastward  into  some  of  the  Connecticut 
towns,  thence  across  the  Sound  by  means  of  the 
whaleboat  service,  and  so  approach  the  hostile 
camp  from  among  its  friends,  offered  a  fair  pros- 


26  In  Olde  Connecticut 

pect  of  success;  and  this  plan  Captain  Hale 
adopted.  He  chose  Fairfield,  Conn.,  as  his  point 
of  departure.  This  town  was  then  one  of  the  first 
importance,  and  exerted  as  much  influence  in 
State  affairs  as  either  New  Haven  or  Hartford. 
It  was  the  center  of  the  republican  cause  in  West- 
ern Connecticut,  and,  as  will  be  seen,  the  nucleus 
of  the  whaleboat  service,  expeditions  radiating 
from  it  in  all  directions  except  landward,  like 
spokes  from  a  hub.  The  ancient  town  was  al- 
ready in  arms,  its  two  militia  companies  were 
fully  armed  and  equipped,  a  patrol  of  twenty  sea- 
men guarded  the  coast  nightly  from  sunset  to  sun- 
rise against  Tory  incursions,  and  two  whaleboat 
crews  had  already  been  out  spying  the  enemy's 
movements  and  harrassing  him  whenever  an  op- 
portunity offered.  Captain  Hale  arrived  in  the 
town  on  the  14th  of  September,  1776,  bearing  a 
letter  from  General  Washington,  instructing  any 
of  the  American  armed  vessels  to  speed  his  pas- 
sage across  the  Sound.  Presenting  this  letter  to 
the  town  Committee  of  Safety,  a  whaleboat  and 
its  crew  were  at  once  put  in  requisition,  and  that 
same  night  he  was  safely  and  secretly  conveyed  to 
the  island,  and  reached  Huntington  early  next 
morning,  from  which  place  he  succeeded  in  pen- 


Whaleboat  Privateersmen  27 

etrating  the  British  lines.  His  subsequent  move- 
ments and  sad  fate  are  too  well  known  to  need 
recapitulation  here.  After  this  episode  no  further 
action  of  importance  is  found  in  the  annals  of  the 
service  until  the  August  of  1777.  In  the  begin- 
ning of  that  year  a  company  of  Tories,  under  Col- 
onel Richard  Hewlett,  took  possession  of  the  old 
Presbyterian  Church  in  Brookhaven  on  Long  Is- 
land, nearly  opposite  Fairfield,  and  proceeded  to 
fortify  it,  surrounding  it  with  a  stockade  and  other 
defensive  works.  Early  in  August  Colonel  Abra- 
ham Parsons,  who  later  rose  to  the  command  of 
a  brigade  in  General  Putnam's  division,  began 
collecting  a  force  in  Fairfield  for  the  reduction  of 
this  novel  fortress.  Having  mustered  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men,  provided  with  muskets  and 
one  brass  six-pounder,  he  embarked  from  Black 
Rock  Harbor  in  Fairfield  in  a  sloop  and  six  whale- 
boats  for  the  purpose  of  capturing  the  Tory  strong- 
hold. It  was  the  evening  of  the  14th  of  August, 
1777,  and  before  daybreak  next  morning  they  had 
landed  at  Crane  Neck  Bend,  near  the  village. 
Here  leaving  their  boats  they  marched  quickly  to 
the  church,  dragging  the  six-pounder  through  the 
sands.  Arrived  at  a  proper  distance,  the  de- 
tachment halted,  and  a  flag  of  truce  was  sent  to 


28  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Colonel  Hewlett,  demanding  an  unconditional  sur- 
render. This  being  refused,  fire  was  opened  at 
once,  and  returned  in  a  spirited  manner  by  the 
besieged.  Before  anything  could  be  accomplished, 
however,  word  was  brought  that  a  British  fleet 
was  sailing  down  the  Sound,  and  fearing  that  his 
retreat  might  be  cut  off,  Colonel  Parsons  ordered 
his  detachment  to  the  boats.  They  re-embarked 
in  good  order  and  reached  Black  Rock  the  same 
evening,  bringing  with  them  no  trophies  except  a 
few  of  the  enemy's  horses  and  some  military  stores. 
For  the  next  year  and  a  half  the  whaleboat  service 
was  chiefly  employed  in  spying  on  the  enemy,  cut- 
ting off  his  unarmed  vessels,  making  plundering 
incursions  into  his  lines,  and  harrassing  him  in 
much  the  same  manner  that  the  gad-fly  torments 
the  ox.  Indeed,  such  was  their  enterprise,  that 
no  royalist  on  Long  Island  considered  himself  safe 
without  an  armed  guard,  and  most  of  the  British 
officers  on  the  island  repaired  to  New  York  and 
Brooklyn  for  protection. 

In  the  spring  of  1779  Sir  Henry  Clinton  deter- 
mined to  pay  off  the  Connecticut  privateersmen 
in  their  own  coin.  General  Gold  Selleck  Silliman, 
a  descendant  of  an  old  Connecticut  family,  was 
then  living  at  Holland  Hill,  a  fine  old  country  seat 


Whale  boat  Privateersmen  29 

in  the  town  of  Fair-field,  about  two  miles  out  of 
the  village.  He  was  one  of  the  most  prominent 
Whigs  in  his  section.  After  the  battle  of  Long 
Island,  and  before  the  army  moved  from  New 
York,  General  Washington  had  given  him  the 
command  of  a  brigade.  Later  Governor  Trum- 
bull  had  made  him  his  deputy  in  consultations 
with  the  Commander-in-Chief,  and  there  is  still 
extant  a  long  letter  from  Washington  to  him,  on 
matters  connected  with  the  army,  written  while 
he  was  acting  in  this  capacity.  He  had  been 
trained  to  the  law,  and  as  a  delegate  to  the  Con- 
tinental Congress  had  done  good  service  for  the 
people.  At  the  time  of  which  I  write  he  was  a 
member  of  the  town's  Committee  of  Inspection 
and  Correspondence,  and  had  been  appointed  by 
the  Governor  and  Council  commander  of  all  the 
State  forces  in  the  vicinity  of  Fairficld,  his  house 
at  Holland  Hill  being  retained  as  his  headquarters. 
General  Clinton  now  determined  on  his  capture. 
He  selected  a  man  named  Glover,  a  Tory  refugee, 
formerly  of  Newtown,  who  had  once  worked  for 
the  General  and  knew  him  well,  with  eight  other 
refugees,  for  this  purpose.  The  party  left  Lloyd- 
Neck,  L.  I.,  in  a  whaleboat  on  the  evening  of  the 
first  of  May,  and  reached  Fairfield  about  mid- 


30  In  Olde  Connecticut 

night,  when,  leaving  one  man  to  guard  the  boat, 
the  others  surrounded  the  Silliman  mansion  and 
began  rapping  for  admission.  The  journal  of 
Mrs.  Silliman  contains  so  graphic  an  account  of 
the  attack  and  abduction  that  it  is  given  in  her 
own  words: 

"  At  a  midnight  hour,  when  we  were  all  asleep, 
the  house  was  attacked.  I  was  first  awakened  by 
the  General's  calling  out,  'Who's  there  ? '  At  that 
instant  there  was  a  banging  at  both  doors,  they 
intending  to  break  them  down  or  burst  them  open 
— and  this  was  done  with  great  stones  as  big  al- 
most as  they  could  lift,  which  they  left  at  the  door. 
My  dear  companion  then  sprang  up,  caught  his 
gun  and  ran  to  the  front  of  the  house  and,  as  the 
moon  shone  brightly,  saw  them  through  the  win- 
dow and  attempted  to  fire,  but  his  gun  only 
flashed  and  missed  fire.  At  that  instant  the  en- 
emy burst  in  a  window,  sash  and  all,  jumped  in, 
seized  him  and  said  he  was  their  prisoner,  and 
must  go  with  them.  He  asked  if  he  might  dress 
himself.  They  said  yes,  if  he  would  be  quick. 
They  followed  him  into  the  bedroom,  where  I  and 
my  dear  little  boy  lay,  with  their  guns  and  bayo- 
nets fixed;  their  appearance  was  dreadful;  it  was 
then  their  prisoner  addressed  them  in  mild  terms 


Whaleboat  Privateersmen  31 

and  begged  them  to  leave  the  room,  and  told  them 
their  being  there  would  frighten  his  wife.  They 
then  withdrew  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  re- 
turned, when  he  asked  them  out  again  and  shut 
the  door.  After  that  I  heard  them  breaking  the 
windows,  which  they  wantonly  did  with  the 
breeches  of  their  guns.  They  then  asked  him  for 
his  money;  he  told  them  he  had  none  but  conti- 
nental, and  that  would  do  them  no  good.  Then 
they  wished  his  papers.  He  said  his  public  papers 
were  all  sent  abroad,  and  his  private  papers  would 
be  of  no  use  to  them.  Then  some  wanted  one 
thing  and  some  another.  He  told  them  mildly  he 
hoped  he  was  in  the  hands  of  gentlemen,  and  that 
it  was  not  their  purpose  to  plunder.  With  these 
arguments  he  quieted  them  so  that  they  plundered 
but  little.  They  then  told  him  he  must  go.  He 
asked  if  he  might  take  leave  of  his  wife.  They 
said  yes  if  he  would  make  haste — he  then  came  in 
and  dropped  a  bundle  of  his  most  valuable  private 
papers  under  something  on  the  table,  took  leave 
of  me  with  great  seeming  fortitude  and  composure, 
and  went  away  with  them.  As  soon  as  I  heard 
the  door  shut  I  arose  and  went  to  the  bedroom 
of  our  son  William,  and  found  he  was  gone,  al- 
though I  did  not  hear  any  of  them  taking  him.  I 


32  In  Olde  Connecticut 

then  went  to  the  door  and  saw  them  bearing  away 
their  prisoners.  I  then  went  to  inform  those  at 
the  next  house,  when  they  fired  a  gun,  which 
frightened  the  enemy  very  much,  as  they  had  not 
got  above  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  our  house. 
They  took  them  down  about  two  miles  to  their 
whaleboat,  where  they  had  left  one  man,  and  pro- 
ceeded on  their  journey  to  Long  Island.  I  heard 
nothing  more  from  them  in  three  weeks.  After 
three  weeks  I  received  a  letter  from  the  General 
informing  me  where  he  was.  I  think  they  were 
then  at  Flatbush  on  Long  Island.  In  that  he  told 
me  where  to  send  my  letters  to  him  for  inspection, 
as  no  letters  were  suffered  to  pass  without.  .  .  . 
Nine  men  came  over  in  the  boat.  They  embarked 
between  the  hours  of  one  and  two  o'clock  Sabbath 
morning,  and  had  a  boisterous  time  over.  They 
took  a  fusee,  a  pair  of  elegant  pistols  inlaid  with 
silver,  and  an  elegant  sword  which  one  of  them 
who  had  worked  at  our  house  took  much  pleasure 
in  flourishing  about,  and  he  it  was  who  piloted 
them.  On  arriving  at  (Lloyd-Neck)  Long  Island 
they  were  hailed  by  Colonel  Simcoe,  who  com- 
manded there:  'Have  you  got  him?'  'Yes.' 
'Have  you  lost  any  men  ? '  'No. '  'That's  well, ' 
said  Simcoe.  'Your  Sillimans  and  your  Washing- 


Whaleboat  Privateersmen  33 

tons  are  not  worth  a  man. '  He  then  ordered  his 
men  to  the  guard  house  with  the  prisoner.  Said 
the  General  '  Am  I  going  to  the  guard  house  ? ' 
'  Yes ! '  When  they  came  there,  he  said  to  the  Ad- 
jutant, '  Is  it  thus  you  treat  prisoners  of  my  rank  ? ' 
He  said,  '  We  do  not  look  on  you  as  we  should  on 
a  continental  General. '  '  But  how  will  you  view 
me  when  an  exchange  is  talked  of?'  'I  under- 
stand you,  Sir, '  and  walked  out,  as  I  suppose,  to 
report  to  his  commanding  officer.  Soon  after  a 
horse  and  carriage  was  sent  to  bring  them  to  New 
York,  guarded  by  a  corps  of  dragoons.  On  his 
arrival  all  flocked  to  see  the  rebel.  They  gave  him 
good  lodgings  until  he  was  ordered  to  Flatbush, 
where  he  remained  until  exchanged  for  Judge 
Jones. " 

This  bold  abduction  excited  the  liveliest  commo- 
tion, not  only  in  the  town,  but  throughout  the 
State,  and  led  to  redoubled  vigilance  on  the  part 
of  the  coast  guard,  which  had  somewhat  slackened 
in  watchfulness  as  the  days  passed  on  and  no  en- 
emy appeared.  Negotiations  were  at  once  opened 
with  the  enemy  for  an  exchange  of  their  prisoner, 
but  it  was  soon  found  that  the  Americans  had  no 
one  in  their  possession  whom  the  British  would 
consider  an  equivalent  for  the  General.  In  no- 
C 


34  In  Olde  Connecticut 

wise  disconcerted,  however,  the  hardy  privateers- 
men  determined  on  capturing  some  person  of  equal 
rank,  and  began  casting  about  for  a  prisoner. 
There  was  then  living  at  Fort  Neck,  a  village  in 
the  town  of  Oyster  Bay,  Long  Island,  the  Hon. 
Thomas  Jones,  a  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
the  Province  of  New  York,  a  staunch  royalist;  this 
gentleman  was  selected  as  a  proper  subject  for 
their  enterprise.  Through  the  golden  autumn 
days  a  plan  was  slowly  matured  in  the  village. 
Captain  David  Hawley,  one  of  the  most  skillful 
captains  in  the  service,  aided  by  Captains  Lock- 
wood  and  Jones,  quietly  enlisted  twenty-five  of  the 
bravest  men  in  their  commands,  and  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  4th  of  November,  1779,  set  off  in  whale- 
boats  from  Newfield  (now  Bridgeport)  Harbor. 
A  few  hours  brought  them  across  the  Sound,  and 
into  Stony  Brook  Creek  near  Smithtown,  where 
they  disembarked  and  at  once  set  out  for  the 
Judge's  residence,  fifty-two  miles  distant.  They 
arrived  there  about  nine  o'clock  on  the  evening 
of  the  6th.  A  merry  party  had  assembled  at  the 
mansion,  music  and  dancing  were  in  progress,  and 
the  noise  effectually  prevented  the  approach  of 
the  party  from  being  heard.  Captain  Hawley 
knocked  at  the  door,  but  perceiving  that  no  one 


Whaleboat  Privateersmen  35 

heard  him,  forced  it,  entered  and  found  Judge 
Jones  standing  in  the  hall.  Telling  the  Judge 
that  he  was  his  prisoner,  he  forced  him  to  depart 
with  him,  together  with  a  young  man  named  Hew- 
lett. According  to  the  journal  above  quoted,  the 
party  met  with  several  adventures  on  their  return 
to  the  boats.  At  one  place  they  had  to  pass  a 
guard  of  soldiers  posted  near  the  road.  Here 
the  Judge  hemmed  very  loud,  whereupon  Captain 
Hawley  forbade  him  to  repeat  the  sound.  He, 
however,  repeated  it,  but  on  being  told  that  a  repe- 
tition would  be  attended  by  fatal  consequences 
he  desisted,  and  the  picket  was  passed  in  safety. 
When  day  broke  the  adventurers  concealed  them- 
selves in  a  thick  forest  until  nightfall,  and  then 
resumed  their  journey.  They  reached  their  boats 
on  the  third  night,  and  crossed  to  Black  Rock  with 
their  prisoners,  having  met  with  no  mishaps  ex- 
cept the  loss  of  six  men,  who,  having  lagged  be- 
hind on  the  third  night,  were  captured  by  the 
light  horse  which  closely  pursued  them.  Mrs. 
Silliman,  a  most  amiable  and  accomplished  lady, 
hearing  of  the  Judge's  arrival,  sent  him  an  invi- 
tation to  breakfast,  which  he  accepted,  and  during 
his  stay  in  Fairfield  he  was  the  guest  of  the  man- 
sion, its  fair  mistress  doing  all  in  her  power  to 


36  In  Olde  Connecticut 

make  his  situation  agreeable;  yet  we  are  told  that 
he  remained  distant,  reserved  and  sullen.  After 
several  days  he  was  removed  to  Middletown  on 
the  Connecticut,  and  negotiations  were  again 
opened  for  an  exchange.  It  was  six  months,  how- 
ever, before  the  British  would  accept  the  terms 
proposed;  but  at  length,  in  May,  1780,  they  agreed 
that  if  a  certain  notorious  refugee,  named  Wash- 
burn,  could  be  included  in  the  exchange,  they 
would  release  General  Silliman  for  Judge  Jones, 
and  his  son  for  Mr.  Hewlett.  A  very  pleasant 
incident  of  the  transfer  of  the  prisoners  is  re- 
corded. The  vessel  bearing  General  Silliman  met 
the  one  conveying  Judge  Jones  in  the  middle  of 
the  Sound,  whereupon  the  vessels  were  brought 
to,  and  the  gentlemen  dined  amicably  together, 
after  which  they  proceeded  to  their  respective 
homes. 

A  little  more  than  a  year  elapsed,  and  then  the 
village  was  stirred  by  the  departure  of  another  ex- 
pedition, bound  on  a  still  more  hazardous  service. 
It  consisted  of  eighty  men,  part  of  them  dis- 
mounted dragoons  from  Colonel  Sheldon's  regi- 
ment, and  was  under  the  command  of  Major, 
afterwards  Colonel,  Benjamin  Tallmadge,  who  will 
be  remembered  as  attending  Major  Andre  at  the 


Whaleboat   Privateersmen  37 

scaffold,  and  afterwards  as  a  representative  in 
Congress  from  Connecticut  for  sixteen  years.  The 
object  of  the  expedition  was  Fort  St.  George, 
erected  on  a  point  projecting  into  the  Great  South 
Bay,  at  Mastic,  L.  I.  The  party  embarked  at 
Fairfield,  November  21,  1780,  at  4  p.  M.,  in  eight 
whaleboats.  "They  crossed  the  Sound  in  four 
hours,  and  landed  at  Oldman's  at  nine  o'clock. 
The  troops  had  marched  about  five  miles,  when, 
it  beginning  to  rain,  they  returned  and  took  shelter 
under  their  boats,  and  lay  concealed  in  the  bushes 
all  that  night  and  the  next  day.  At  evening,  the 
rain  abating,  the  troops  were  again  put  in  motion, 
and  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  were  within 
two  miles  of  the  fort.  Here  he  divided  his  men 
into  three  parties,  ordering  each  to  attack  the  fort 
at  the  same  time  at  different  points.  The  order 
was  so  well  executed  that  the  three  divisions  ar- 
rived nearly  at  the  same  time.  It  was  a  triangular 
inclosure  of  several  acres,  thoroughly  stockaded, 
well  barricaded  houses  at  two  of  the  angles,  and 
at  the  third  a  fort,  with  a  deep  ditch  and  wall, 
encircled  by  an  abatis  of  sharpened  pickets  pro- 
jecting at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  The 
stockade  was  cut  down,  the  column  led  through 
the  grand  parade,  and  in  ten  minutes  the  main 


38  In  Olde  Connecticut 

fort  was  carried  by  the  bayonet.  The  vessels  near 
the  fort,  laden  with  stores,  attempted  to  escape, 
but  the  guns  of  the  fort  being  brought  to  bear  upon 
them,  they  were  secured  and  burnt,  as  were  the 
works  and  stores.  The  number  of  prisoners  was 
fifty-four,  of  whom  seven  were  wounded.  While 
they  marched  to  the  boats  under  an  escort,  Major 
Tallmadge  proceeded  with  the  remainder  of  the 
detachment,  destroyed  about  three  hundred  tons 
of  hay  collected  at  Coram,  and  returned  to  the 
place  of  debarkation  just  as  the  party  with  the 
prisoners  arrived,  and  reached  Fairfield  by  eleven 
o'clock  the  same  evening,  having  accomplished  the 
enterprise,  including  a  march  of  forty  miles  by 
land  and  as  much  by  water,  without  the  loss  of 
a  man. " 

For  this  exploit  Major  Tallmadge  was  honored 
with  an  autograph  letter  of  thanks  from  General 
Washington,  and  with  a  complimentary  resolution 
from  Congress.  It  was  not  the  first  nor  the  last 
time  that  this  gallant  officer  made  use  of  the 
whaleboat  service  to  annoy  the  enemy.  Very 
early  in  the  war  he  had  opened  a  secret  corre- 
spondence for  Washington  with  the  Whigs  of  Long 
Island,  and  kept  one  or  more  boats  constantly  em- 
ployed in  this  service.  In  1777  a  band  of  Tory 


Whaleboat   Privateersmen  39 

marauders  had  established  themselves,  under  the 
protection  of  a  strongly  fortified  post  erected  by 
the  British,  on  a  promonotory  between  Hunting- 
ton  and  Oyster  Bay,  whence  they  would  steal 
out  in  their  boats  and  commit  depredations 
on  the  Connecticut  coast.  Tallmadge,  learning 
of  the  retreat  of  this  horde  of  bandits,  determined 
to  break  it  up,  and  on  the  5th  of  September,  1777, 
embarked  with  130  men  at  Shippan's  Point,  near 
Stamford,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  landed 
at  Lloyd's  Neck,  captured  the  entire  party,  and 
returned  to  Stamford  before  morning  dawned;  and 
again  in  October,  1781,  he  embarked  his  forces  at 
Norwalk  and  captured  and  burned  Fort  Slongo 
at  Tredwell's  Bank,  near  Smithtown,  bringing  off 
a  number  of  prisoners  and  a  piece  of  artillery. 

Captain  Caleb  Brewster  of  Fairfield  was  an- 
other Continental  officer  who  figures  largely  in 
the  records  of  the  whaleboat  service.  In  1781  he 
captured  an  armed  boat  with  her  crew  on  the 
Sound,  and  brought  both  safely  into  Fairfield,  and 
on  the  7th  of  December,  1782,  was  the  hero  of 
one  of  the  most  famous  and  desperate  encounters 
of  the  privateersmen,  which  is  still  spoken  of  in 
Fairfield  as  the  "boat  fight."  On  the  morning 
of  that  day  several  of  the  enemy's  armed  boats 


40  In  Olde  Connecticut 

were  seen  proceeding  down  the  Sound,  and  Cap- 
tain Brewster,  with  his  hardy  veterans,  at  once  put 
out  from  Fairfield  to  intercept  them.  Forcing  his 
boats  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy's  fleet,  a  hand 
to  hand  conflict  ensued,  so  deadly  that  in  twenty 
minutes  nearly  every  man  on  both  sides  was  either 
killed  or  wounded,  the  gallant  captain  himself  be- 
ing pierced  by  a  rifle  ball  through  the  shoulder. 
Two  of  the  enemy's  boats  were  captured  in  this 
affair,  the  others  succeeding  in  making  their  es- 
cape. This  gallant  act  brought  the  captain  the 
plaudits  of  his  countrymen,  and  a  pension  for  life 
from  Congress.  In  a  year  his  wound  had  so  far 
recovered  that  he  was  ready  for  active  service 
again,  and  took  command  of  an  expedition  for 
capturing  the  Fox,  a  British  armed  vessel  that  had 
been  stationed  in  the  Sound  to  prevent  the  roam- 
ing of  the  privateersmen,  and  had  long  been  a 
source  of  annoyance  to  them.  On  a  dark  night — 
the  9th  of  March,  1783— the  boats  left  Fairfield, 
and  stealing  upon  the  Fox  as  she  lay  at  anchor, 
captain  and  men  leaped  on  board  with  fixed  bay- 
onets, and  in  two  minutes  the  vessel  was  at  their 
mercy.  Captain  Johnson  of  the  Fox  and  two  of 
his  men  were  killed  and  several  wounded,  while 
of  the  patriots  not  a  person  was  injured.  After 


Whale  boat   Privateersmen  41 

the  war  Captain  Brewster  was  commander  of  the 
revenue  cutter  of  the  district  of  New  York  for  a 
number  of  years.  He  died  at  Black  Rock,  Fair- 
field,  February  13,  1827,  aged  seventy-nine  years. 
But  the  operations  of  the  whaleboatmen  were 
not  always  of  an  offensive  character;  they  were 
sometimes  obliged  to  act  on  the  defensive — but 
generally,  even  in  such  cases,  with  credit  to  them- 
selves. Early  in  March,  1780,  a  band  of  seven 
men,  commanded  by  one  Alexander  Graham,  a 
deserter  from  the  American  army,  but  who  then 
bore  a  commission  from  General  Howe,  authoriz- 
ing him  to  recruit  Connecticut  Tories  for  the  Brit- 
ish army,  landed  on  the  coast  at  or  near  Branford, 
and  marched  inland  to  the  house  of  Captain  Eben- 
ezer  Dayton  in  Bethany,  a  merchant,  who  had 
been  obliged  to  flee  from  Long  Island  to  escape 
the  persecutions  of  the  Tories.  In  the  absence  of 
the  Captain  they  broke  into  the  house,  and  de- 
stroyed or  carried  off  nearly  five  thousand  pounds 
worth  of  property.  From  this  place  they  pro- 
ceeded to  Middlebury  where  they  were  secreted 
in  the  cellar  of  a  Tory  family  for  several  days, 
and  afterward  to  Oxford,  where  they  lay  several 
days  longer  in  a  barn.  At  length,  leaving  their 
retreat  here,  they  passed  through  Derby,  and  down 


42  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  Housatonic  to  Stratford,  where  they  took  a 
whaleboat  and  set  out  for  Long  Island.  Their 
passage  through  Derby  had  been  discovered,  how- 
ever, and  two  whaleboats  with  their  crews,  under 
command  of  Captains  Clark  and  Harvey,  started 
in  pursuit,  and  after  a  brisk  chase  succeeded  in 
overhauling  the  marauders  just  as  they  were  en- 
tering the  British  lines.  They  were  brought  back 
in  triumph,  tried  and  condemned — Graham,  the 
commander,  to  be  hanged,  and  the  others  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  the  old  Newgate. 

No  unimportant  place  in  the  annals  of  the  whale- 
boat  service  of  the  Revolution  belongs  to  Captain 
Marriner  of  Harlem  and  Captain  Hyler  of  New 
Brunswick.  In  an  old  time-stained  copy  of  the 
"  Naval  Magazine,"  printed  nearly  sixty  years  ago, 
is  to  be  found  a  very  interesting  and  gossipy  ac- 
count of  these  famous  chieftains,  communicated 
by  General  Jeremiah  Johnson,  himself  a  revolu- 
tionary veteran  and  privy  to  the  facts  which  he 
relates.  I  give  the  article  nearly  entire: 

"  Hyler  and  Marriner  cruised  between  Egg  Har- 
bor and  Staten  Island.  Hyler  took  several  ships 
and  levied  contributions  on  the  New  York  fisher- 
men on  the  fishing  banks.  He  frequently  visited 
Long  Island.  He  took  a  Hessian  Major  at  night 


Whaleboat   Privateersmen  43 

from  the  house  of  Michael  Bergen  at  Gowanus, 
when  his  soldiers  were  encamped  near  the  house. 
He  surprised  and  took  a  sergeant's  guard  at  Ca- 
narsie  from  the  house  of  their  Captain,  Schenck. 
The  guards  were  at  supper,  and  their  muskets 
standing  in  the  hall,  when  Hyler  entered  with  his 
men.  He  seized  the  arms,  and,  after  jesting  with 
the  guards,  he  borrowed  the  silver  spoons  for  his 
family;  took  a  few  other  articles,  with  all  the  mus- 
kets, and  made  one  prisoner.  He  sent  the  guard 
to  report  themselves  to  Colonel  Axtell,  and  re- 
turned to  New  Jersey.  Captain  Hyler  also  paid  a 
visit  to  Colonel  Lott  at  Flatlands.  The  Colonel 
was  known  to  be  rich;  his  money  and  his  person 
were  the  objects  desired.  He  was  surprised  in  his 
house  and  taken.  His  cupboard  was  searched  for 
money,  and  some  silver  found;  and,  on  further 
search,  two  bags  supposed  to  contain  guineas  were 
discovered.  These,  with  the  silver,  the  Colonel 
and  two  of  his  negroes,  were  taken  to  New  Bruns- 
wick. In  the  morning,  on  the  passage  up  the 
Raritan,  the  captain  and  crew  agreed  to  count 
and  divide  the  guineas.  The  bags  were  opened, 
when,  to  the  mortification  of  the  crew,  they  found 
the  bags  contained  only  halfpennies  belonging  to 
the  church  of  Flatlands;  and  the  Colonel  also  dis- 


44  In  Olde  Connecticut 

covered  that  his  guineas  were  safe  at  home.  The 
crew  were  disappointed  in  their  Scotch  prize. 
They,  however,  determined  to  make  the  most  of 
the  adventure;  they  took  the  Colonel  and  his  ne- 
groes to  New  Brunswick,  where  they  compelled 
him  to  ransom  his  negroes,  and  then  permitted 
him  to  return  home  on  parole.  Captain  Hyler  also 
took  a  corvette  of  twenty  guns  about  nine  o'clock 
at  night  in  Coney  Island  Bay.  The  ship  lay  at 
anchor,  bound  for  Halifax,  to  complete  her  crew. 
The  night  was  dark;  one  of  the  boats  with  muf- 
fled oars  was  rowed  up  close  under  the  stern  of 
the  ship,  where  the  officers  were  to  be  seen  at  a 
game  of  cards  in  the  cabin,  and  no  watch  on  deck. 
The  spy-boat  then  fell  astern  to  her  consort  and 
reported,  when  orders  were  passed  to  board.  The 
boats  were  rowed  up  silently — the  ship  boarded 
instantly  on  both  sides — and  not  a  man  was  in- 
jured. The  officers  were  confined  in  the  cabin 
and  the  crew  below.  The  Captain  ordered  the 
officers  and  crew  to  be  taken  out  of  the  ship,  well 
fettered  and  placed  in  the  whaleboats.  After- 
wards a  few  articles  were  taken  from  the  ship  and 
she  was  set  on  fire,  when  Captain  Hyler  left  her 
with  his  prisoners  from  New  Brunswick. 

"My  informant,  one  of  the  men  who  took  the 


Whaleboat    Privateersmen  45 

ship,  stated  that  the  captain  of  the  corvette  wept 
as  they  were  crossing  the  Bay,  and  reproached 
himself  for  permitting  one  of  his  Majesty's  ships 
to  be  surprised  and  taken  by '  two  d — d  egg  shells, ' 
and  he  added  that  there  were  $40,000  on  board 
the  burning  vessel,  which  Captain  Hyler  and  his 
crew  deserved  for  their  gallant  enterprise.  The 
booty  however  was  lost. 

"After  the  notorious  refugee  Lippincott  had 
barbarously  murdered  Captain  Huddy  at  Sandy 
Hook,  General  Washington  was  very  anxious  to 
have  the  murderer  secured.  He  had  been  de- 
manded from  the  British  General  and  his  surrender 
refused.  Retaliation  was  decided  on  by  General 
Washington.  Young  Asgill  was  to  be  the  innocent 
victim  to  atone  for  the  death  of  Captain  Huddy. 
He  was  saved  by  the  mediation  of  the  Queen  of 
France.  Captain  Hyler  determined  to  take  Lippin- 
cott. On  inquiry  he  found  that  he  resided  in  a 
well  known  house  in  Broad  street,  New  York. 
Dressed  and  equipped  like  a  man-of-war  press- 
gang,  he  left  the  Kills  with  one  boat  after  dark, 
and  arrived  at  Whitehall  about  nine  o'clock.  Here 
he  left  his  boat  in  charge  of  three  men,  and  then 
passed  to  the  residence  of  Lippincott,  where  he 
inquired  for  him,  and  found  he  was  absent  and 


46  In  Olde  Connecticut 

gone  to  a  cockpit.  Captain  Hyler  thus  failed  in 
the  object  of  his  pursuit  and  visit  to  the  city.  He 
returned  to  his  boat  with  his  press-gang,  and  left 
Whitehall;  but  finding  a  sloop  lying  at  anchor  off 
the  Battery  from  the  West  Indies  laden  with  rum, 
he  took  the  vessel,  cut  her  cable,  set  her  sails,  and 
with  a  northeast  wind  sailed  to  Elizabethtown 
Point,  and  before  daylight  had  landed  from  her, 
and  secured,  forty  hogsheads  of  rum.  He  then 
burned  the  sloop  to  prevent  her  recapture. 

"  Captain  Marriner  resided  many  years  at  Har- 
lem and  on  Ward's  Island  after  the  war.  He  was 
a  man  of  eccentric  character,  witty  and  ingenious, 
and  abounding  in  anecdotes;  but  he  had  his  faults. 
He  had  been  taken  by  the  British,  was  on  parole 
in  King's  County,  and  quartered  with  Rem  Van- 
pelt  of  New  Utrecht.  The  prisoners  among  the 
officers  had  the  liberty  of  the  four  southern  towns 
of  the  county.  Many  of  them  frequented  Dr.  Van 
Buren's  Tavern  in  Flatbush.  Here  our  captain's 
sarcastic  wit  in  conversation  with  Major  Sher- 
brook  of  the  British  army  led  to  abusive  language 
from  the  Major  to  the  prisoner.  After  some  time 
Marriner  was  exchanged,  when  he  determined  to 
capture  Major  Sherbrook.  Colonel  Matthews 
(Mayor  of  New  York),  Colonel  Axtell  and  a  Major 


Whaleboat   Privateersmen  47 

Bache,  who  all  resided  in  Flatbush,  were  noted 
and  abusive  Tories,  and  obnoxious  to  the  Ameri- 
can officers.  For  the  purpose  of  carrying  his  de- 
sign into  execution,  he  repaired  to  New  Brunswick 
and  procured  a  whaleboat.  This  he  manned  with 
a  crew  of  well  armed  volunteers,  with  whom  he 
proceeded  to  New  Utrecht,  and  landed  on  the 
beach  at  Bath,  about  half -past  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  Leaving  two  men  in  charge  of  the  boat, 
with  the  rest  of  the  crew  he  marched  unmolested 
to  Flatbush  church,  where  he  divided  his  men  into 
four  squads,  assigning  a  house  to  each;  each  party 
or  squad  was  provided  with  a  heavy  post  to  break 
in  the  doors.  All  was  silent  in  the  village.  Cap- 
tain Marriner  selected  the  house  of  George  Mar- 
tence,  where  his  friend,  the  Major,  quartered,  for 
himself;  the  other  parties  proceeded  to  their  as- 
signed houses.  Time  was  given  to  each  to  arrive 
at  its  destination;  and  it  was  agreed  that  when 
Marriner  struck  his  door  the  others  were  to  break 
in  theirs,  and  repair  to  the  church  with  their 
prisoners.  The  doors  were  broken  at  the  same 
time.  Marriner  found  the  Major  behind  a  large 
chimney  in  the  garret  where  he  had  hidden  him- 
self; and  where  he  surrendered  in  the  presence  of 
his  landlady  who  lit  the  way  for  Marriner.  The 


48  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Major  was  permitted  to  take  his  small-clothes  in 
his  hand,  and  thus  was  marched  to  the  church 
where  the  parties  assembled.  Mr.  Bache  was 
taken.  Cols.  Axtell  and  Matthews  being  at  New 
York  escaped  capture.  The  parties  marched  with 
their  prisoners  unmolested  to  their  boat  and  re- 
turned safe  to  New  Brunswick.  This  event  took 
place  about  midsummer  on  a  fair  moonlight  night. 

"Captain  Marriner  also  paid  Simon  Cortelyou 
of  New  Utrecht  a  visit;  and  took  him  to  New 
Brunswick  as  a  return  for  his  uncivil  conduct  to 
the  American  prisoners.  He  took  his  tankard  and 
several  articles  also  which  he  neglected  to  return. 
After  Captain  Marriner's  visit  to  Flatbush,  four 
inhabitants  of  New  Utrecht  were  taken  separately, 
and  separately  imprisoned  in  the  Provost,  in  New 
York,  on  suspicion  of  having  been  connected  with 
Marriner  in  his  enterprise,  viz.,  Colonel  Van  Brunt, 
his  brother  Adrian  Van  Brunt,  Rem  Vanpelt,  and 
his  brother  Art  Vanpelt. " 

As  the  war  progressed,  the  boldness  and  adven- 
turous spirit  of  the  privateersmen  increased,  until 
towards  the  close,  the  entrances  to  New  York  were 
in  a  state  of  blockade,  which  even  armed  vessels  did 
not  always  attempt  to  force  singly.  The  Narrows 
and  the  Sound  swarmed  with  whaleboats.  The 


Whaleboat  Privateersmen  49 

fishing  industry  on  which  the  inhabitants  of  New 
York  greatly  depended  for  food,  and  which  was  a 
main  source  of  supply  to  the  beleaguered  garrison, 
was  almost  wholly  broken  up.  The  fisheries  had 
always  been  a  matter  of  concern  to  the  merchants, 
and  annual  bounties  were  paid  to  the  vessels  bring- 
ing in  the  largest  quantities  of  deep-sea  fish. 

The  Shrewsbury  banks,  a  favorite  fishing 
ground,  and  the  main  source  of  supply  to  the  New 
York  market,  were  jealously  watched.  In  the  safe 
cover  of  the  Shrewsbury  River,  Hyler  lay  in  wait  to 
pounce  upon  the  adventurous  or  unwary  who  cast 
a  line  or  dragged  a  net  within  its  assumed  juris- 
diction. Unlike  the  British  Admiral  on  the  sta- 
tion, he  granted  no  passes  for  illicit  trade,  but  took 
his  toll  in  another  fashion.  On  one  occasion  it 
is  related  of  him  that  he  captured  two  fishing  ves- 
sels which  he  ransomed  at  one  hundred  dollars 
each,  and  within  the  week  recaptured  one  of  the 
same  boats,  which  had  again  ventured  within  his 
reach.  Such  was  the  frequency  of  these  captures 
that  the  Tory  merchants  who  revived  the  Chamber 
of  Commerce  during  the  war,  made  application 
to  Admiral  Arbuthnot  for  "  the  protection  of  the 
fishermen  employed  on  the  banks  of  Shrewsbury.  " 
The  Admiral  purchased  a  vessel  mounting  twelve 
D 


50  In  Olde  Connecticut 

carriage  guns  and  requested  that  the  city  would 
man  her,  but  the  seamen  placed  little  faith  in  the 
promises  from  British  naval  officers,  and  hesitated 
to  enter  a  service,  the  exit  of  which  was  as  hopeless 
as  from  the  Inferno  of  Dante.  The  "  hot  press  " 
was  the  terror  of  American  sailors  before  and  after 
the  war;  indeed,  till  Hull  and  Decatur  and  Preble 
laid  an  injunction  upon  it  at  the  cannon's  mouth. 
In  1782  similar  application  was  made  to  Admi- 
ral Graves,  who  had  succeeded  Arbuthnot  on  the 
station,  and  the  intervention  of  General  Robertson, 
the  military  commandant  of  the  city,  was  invoked 
"  to  encourage  the  fishermen  to  take  fish  for  a  sup- 
ply to  this  garrison,  and  that  its  commerce  may  not 
be  annoyed  by  the  privateersmen  and  whaleboats 
that  infest  the  narrows. "  The  newspapers  of 
1781  are  full  of  Hyler's  exploits,  which  sometimes 
reached  higher  game  than  fishing  smacks.  In 
June,  he  and  an  associate,  Captain  Story,  in  two 
whaleboats  boarded  and  took  the  schooner  Skip 
Jack  (which  mounted  six  carriage  guns  besides 
swivels),  at  high  noon,  and  burned  her  in  sight  of 
the  guard  ship  and  the  men  of  war  on  the  station, 
and  on  the  same  cruise  carried  off  three  small 
trading  vessels  laden  with  contraband  cattle  on 
the  way  from  the  Jersey  Tories  to  New  York. 


Whaleboat  Privateersmen  51 

Captain  Adam  Hyler  was  of  New  Brunswick. 
He  died  in  the  fall  of  1782  and  was  honorably 
mentioned  in  the  "  New  Jersey  Gazette,"  for 
"his  many  heroic  and  enterprising  acts  in  an- 
noying and  distressing  the  enemy.  " 

The  whaleboats  used  on  their  excursions  were 
formidable  enemies.  They  were  upwards  of 
thirty-five  feet  long,  were  rowed  with  eight  oars, 
carried  two  heavy  sails  and  were  armed  with  a 
large  swivel.  They  depended  on  neither  wind 
nor  tide  for  their  progress  in  pursuit  or  flight. 

After  the  war  Captain  Marriner  resumed  his 
avocation  of  tavern  keeper,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  occupied  several  houses  in  the  village  of  Har- 
lem, which  were  in  turn  a  favorite  resort  of  the 
politicians  and  military  men  of  the  city.  He  was 
also  largely  patronized  by  the  disciples  of  Izaak 
Walton,  who  angled  for  bass  or  dropped  their  line 
for  the  tautog  in  the  stirring  waters  of  Hell  Gate 
and  its  vicinity.  Marriner  also  figures  in  history 
as  the  caterer  who  provided  the  dinner  for  General 
Washington  and  his  suite,  on  their  visit  to  the 
ruins  of  Fort  Washington  in  1790.  The  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  refers  to  the  affair  in  his  journal, 
under  date  of  July  10  of  that  year. 


CHAPTER  IV 

SAYBROOK   AND    GUILFORD,    1880 

OLD  SAYBROOK  is  almost  the  only  Con- 
necticut town  that  boasts  nobility  for  its 
founders,  and  a  real  lord  and  lady  for  its  first  gov- 
ernors. Almost  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago, 
we  learn  from  the  old  chroniclers,  Lord  Say  and 
Seal,  Lord  Brook,  Colonel  Fenwick,  and  "  other 
gentlemen  of  distinction  in  England, "  procured  a 
patent  of  the  territory  "  lying  west  from  Narragan- 
sett  River,  a  hundred  and  twenty  miles  on  the  sea- 
coast,  and  from  thence  in  latitude  and  breadth 
aforesaid  to  the  South  Sea. "  A  quaint  old  docu- 
ment, it  is  said,  was  this  patent,  which,  after 
defining  in  obsolete  legal  terms,  the  metes  and 
bounds  of  the  grant,  its  "  privileges  and  appurte- 
nances" of  woods,  uplands,  arable  lands,  mead- 
ows, pastures,  ponds,  havens,  ports,  waters, 
rivers,  adjoining  islands,  fishings,  huntings,  fowl- 
ings,  mines,  minerals,  quarries  and  precious 
stones,  closed  as  follows: 


Saybrook  and  Guilford,  1880  53 

"According  to  the  tenour  of  his  majestie's 
manor  of  East  Greenwich,  in  the  county  of  Kent 
in  ye  kingdom  of  England,  in  free  and  common 
soccage,  and  not  in  cappitu  nor  by  Knight  serv- 
ice; they  yielding  and  paying  therefor  to  our  sov- 
ereign Lord  the  King,  his  heirs  and  successors, 
only  the  fifth  part  of  all  the  Oar  of  Gold  and  Silver 
which  from  time  to  time,  and  at  all  times  hereafter 
shall  be  gotten,  had  or  otherwise  obtained. " 

The  first  step  of  the  patentees  was  to  plant  a 
settlement  in  their  new  possessions,  and  early  in 
1635  they  deputed  John  Winthrop,  son  of  the 
famous  Governor  Winthrop,  to  build  a  fort  on 
Saybrook  Point,  which  should  serve  as  a  nucleus 
for  the  proposed  settlement,  and  the  site  of  which 
is  still  pointed  out  to  the  tourist,  on  a  little  emi- 
nence commanding  the  mouth  of  the  Connecticut 
River.  This  fort  is  a  central  form  in  the  history 
of  the  State.  The  waves  of  Pequot  and  Narra- 
gansett  warfare  rolled  about  it  for  almost  half  a 
century;  several  times  it  was  beseiged,  and  a  hun- 
dred moving  tales  of  ambush  and  rally,  of  cap- 
ture, torture  and  individual  murder  are  related 
by  the  antiquarians  of  the  village  concerning  it. 
Only  a  few  days  after  the  fort  was  begun  a  Dutch 
vessel  from  New  Netherlands  came  hither  with 


54  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  view  to  taking  possession  of  the  river,  but  was 
driven  off  by  the  guns  of  the  fort.  From  its  walls 
Captain  Mason  and  his  men  on  a  May  day  in 
1637  set  out  for  the  destruction  of  Pequot  fort  and 
nation  at  Groton,  and  here  Governor  Andros  in 
1675  made  his  first  attempt  against  the  chartered 
rights  of  the  colony  by  sailing  up  from  New  York 
with  an  armed  force  and  demanding  the  surrender 
of  the  fort. 

In  1639  Colonel  George  Fenwick  arrived  and 
continued  to  act  as  Governor  of  the  plantation  un- 
til it  was  sold  to  the  colony  of  Connecticut  in 
1644,  the  noble  owners  of  the  patent  having  re- 
linquished their  former  plan  of  improving  their 
grant  in  person.  Colonel  Fenwick  was  accom- 
panied by  his  wife,  Lady  Anne  Butler,  daughter 
of  an  English  nobleman,  the  first  lady  of  rank 
who  appears  in  the  colonies,  and  whose  story 
forms  one  of  the  most  romantic  and  interesting 
episodes  in  the  history  of  Saybrook.  With  true 
wifely  devotion  she  refused  to  allow  her  husband 
to  depart  for  the  New  World  alone,  and  leaving 
behind  the  comforts  and  refinements  of  life  in  the 
English  upper  class  she  followed  him  hither,  and 
shared  with  him  the  perils  of  Indian  warfare  and 
the  privations  of  the  wilderness.  The  brave  lady's 


Saybrook  and  Guilford,  1880  55 

love  and  devotion  cost  her  dear;  she  died  in  1648, 
nine  years  after  her  arrival,  and  was  buried  a  few 
yards  southwest  of  the  fort,  on  a  slight  eminence 
known  to  this  day  as  Tomb  Hill.  The  bereaved 
husband  erected  a  monument  to  mark  her  grave, 
and  soon  after  sailed  away  to  England,  where  he 
figured  in  history  as  one  of  the  judges  of  the  un- 
fortunate King  Charles  the  First.  For  more  than 
two  hundred  years  the  brave  lady's  tomb  remained 
amid  the  bleakness  and  barrenness  of  the  Point. 
At  length  the  line  of  the  Connecticut  Valley  Rail- 
road was  laid  out  directly  through  it  and,  yielding 
to  the  exigencies  of  modern  progress,  the  interest- 
ing relic  was  removed.  In  opening  the  grave  a 
floss  of  her  bright  golden  hair  was  found  perfectly 
preserved;  it  is  now  owned  by  a  conductor  on  the 
Valley  Railroad  whose  antiquarian  tastes  led  him 
to  appropriate  that  which  no  one  else  valued. 
The  tourist  now  looks  in  the  village  cemetery  for 
the  poor  lady's  cenotaph,  a  shapeless  monument, 
rudely  carved  from  the  red  sandstone  of  the  valley, 
and  from  some  unexplained  cause  bearing  no  in- 
scription whatever,  probably  because  the  hard, 
stern,  Puritan  spirit  forbade  to  a  woman  the  glow- 
ing panegyric  necessary  in  order  to  do  justice  to 
her  virtues.  This  part  of  Saybrook  is  now  called 


56  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Fenwick,  I  suppose  in  her  honor,  and  the  large 
summer  hotel  built  here  in  1871  received  its  name, 
Fenwick  Hall,  probably  for  the  same  reason. 

But  Saybrook  once  barely  missed  an  honor 
greater  than  any  which  have  been  narrated.  Over 
on  the  south  end  of  the  Point — a  region  of  shifting 
sands  and  bunches  of  beach  grass,  that  at  the 
touch  of  the  sea  breeze  vibrates  with  the  tunes  of 
a  hundred  ^Eolian  harps,  and  which  is  now  occu- 
pied only  by  the  hotels  and  the  great  lighthouse — 
a  city  was  once  laid  out,  with  streets  and  squares, 
a  park,  a  public  mart,  and  wharfs  for  the  shipping; 
then  the  colonists  began  to  whisper  of  the  arrival 
of  distinguished  strangers,  and  to  scan  the  distant 
sea  line  for  an  expected  sail.  The  strangers  thus 
looked  for,  the  old  chronicles  go  on  to  say,  were 
Cromwell,  Pym,  Hasselrig  and  Hampden,  the  four 
most  illustrious  commoners  in  English  annals,  who 
at  one  time  had  made  all  preparations  to  emigrate 
to  the  New  World,  once  actually  embarking  for 
the  voyage,  but  were  driven  back  by  adverse  winds, 
and  from  some  unknown  cause  were  led  to  aban- 
don their  project;  and  so  the  colonists  were  dis- 
appointed and  the  city  lots  left  to  return  to  their 
original  barrenness. 

It  was  at  Saybrook  that  Yale  College  had  its 


Saybrook  and  Guilford,  1880  57 

birth,  and  the  first  fifteen  Commencements  of  the 
institution  were  held  here;  and  in  this  village,  in 
the  autumn  of  1708,  assembled  the  convention  of 
Puritan  ministers  which  adopted  the  famous  Say- 
brook  Platform.  It  may  be  readily  imagined  that 
the  latter  was  one  of  the  great  events  of  the  village. 
The  state  of  the  church  at  that  time  was  such 
as  to  awaken  the  gravest  apprehensions.  The 
liberal  doctrines  of  Roger  Williams — the  most 
trenchant  foe  that  Calvinism  ever  encountered — 
were  advancing  from  the  East.  Antinomianism, 
the  Anabaptist  and  Pedobaptist  heresies  were 
prevalent.  Quakers  had  been  harbored  in  the 
colony,  and  to  add  to  the  pressure  of  foes  without 
there  were  strifes  and  wranglings  among  the 
churches  themselves;  and  so  the  Puritan  leaders 
called  a  convention  of  the  entire  church  to  meet 
at  Saybrook.  The  delegates  came  on  horseback 
from  every  part  of  the  colony — from  Hartford, 
Simsbury  and  the  East,  from  Litchfield,  Fairfield 
and  the  towns  and  villages  between.  It  was  the 
season  of  Commencement  in  the  college.  The 
morning  after  their  arrival  the  convention  met. 
How  readily  the  imagination  recalls  the  scene! 
The  throng  of  strangers,  the  pleasant  air  of  bustle 
and  excitement  in  the  village,  and  then,  at  the 


58  In  Olde  Connecticut 

stroke  of  the  bell  in  the  ancient  church,  grave, 
sober-suited  figures  come  forth  from  the  doors  of 
the  villagers.  As  in  a  pageant  they  pass  down  the 
village  street.  On  some  of  the  faces  under  the 
broad-brimmed  hats  rests  an  almost  divine  benev- 
olence, on  others  a  grim  austerity  lowers;  there  is 
an  earnestness  and  glow  about  them  that  attracts, 
and  a  severe  dignity  that  repels.  How  rebukingly 
they  gaze  upon  the  idle  dreamer  and  scribbler 
under  the  elms!  How  with  a  look  they  would 
have  crushed  the  petted  and  perfumed  striplings 
of  the  modern  pulpit ! 

The  church  doors  close  upon  the  retreating 
forms,  and  there  is  framed  the  platform  that  is  to 
be  the  sheet-anchor  of  the  Congregational  churches 
for  almost  twice  a  hundred  years. 

At  the  risk  of  prolixity  I  must  speak  of  another 
excursion  that  I  made  to  Guilford,  sixteen  miles 
distant.  The  ancient  village  is  dear  to  all  lovers 
of  poetry  as  the  birthplace  of  one  of  the  earliest 
and  sweetest  of  American  poets,  Fitz-Greene  Hal- 
leek.  Here,  in  1790,  the  poet  was  born,  and  here 
he  served  as  a  clerk  in  the  village  store  until  called 
to  a  position  in  the  counting-room  of  the  Astors; 
and  here,  after  writing  a  grand  lyric  and  passing 


Saybrook  and  Guilford,  1880  59 

almost  half  a  century  in  the  gay  city,  courted  and 
caressed  by  its  highest  society,  he  returned,  as  old 
age  crept  on,  to  bear  its  burdens  and  share  its 
pleasures  with  the  friends  of  his  childhood,  under 
the  same  old  elms  that  had  sheltered  him  in  in- 
fancy, and  here  he  continued  to  live  until  his  death 
in  1867.  The  poet's  grave  and  monument  are 
shown  in  the  neat  Alderbrook  Cemetery  on  the 
Madison  road,  about  a  mile  west  of  the  village. 
The  monument  is  of  granite,  and  bears  on  its 
north  panel  the  simple  inscription: 

Fitz-Greene  Halleck, 
1790_1867. 

with  a  couplet  from  his  "  Marco  Bozarris, " 

"  One  of  the  few,  the  immortal  names 
That  are  not  born  to  die." 

On  the  east  panel: 

Maria  Halleck,  1788—1870. 
Nathaniel  E.  Halleck,  1792—1793. 

On  the  west  panel: 

Israel  Halleck,  1754—1839. 
Mary  Eliot  Halleck,  1762—1819. 

On  the  south  panel  is  a  monogram  showing  the 
harp  and  pen  united. 


60  In  Olde  Connecticut 

It  is  probable  that  the  poet  received  his  poetic 
instinct  from  his  mother.  The  Hallecks,  I  am 
told,  were  of  Dutch  extraction,  and  were  a  cold, 
phlegmatic  race.  The  Eliots  are  an  old  Connec- 
ticut family,  the  same  that  produced  the  famous 
Apostle  to  the  Indians,  and  are  described  as  quick, 
fanciful  and  imaginative. 


CHAPTER  V 

KILLINGWORTH    AND    ITS    BIRDS 

WE  were  seated  on  the  sunny  side  of  a  big 
bowlder  in  a  huckleberry  patch.  Below,  the 
bushy  hill  dropped  down  to  some  rocky  meadows 
and  cornfields,  while  southward,  over  many  rocky 
hills  and  bushy  plains,  we  saw  the  blue  waves  of 
the  Sound,  populous  with  sails,  and  crossed  here 
and  there  by  the  steeple  of  some  ancient  hamlet 
or  summer  village  on  the  shore. 

"  Why  do  you  call  it  Killingworth  ?  "  I  asked. 

"It  was  Kenilworth  originally,"  he  replied, 
"named  after  the  English  Kenilworth,  in  War- 
wick, from  which  it  is  said  the  early  settlers  came. 
It  was  founded  by  its  Indian  name,  Hammonasset, 
and  so  continued  to  be  known  until  1667,  when  it 
was  changed  to  Kenilworth.  In  October,  1663, 
I  may  explain,  the  General  Court  of  Connecticut 
issued  its  fiat  that '  there  should  be  a  town  at  Ham- 
monasset, '  and  that  same  month  twelve  planters 
took  up  their  abode  here,  in  obedience,  as  we  sup- 


62  In  Olde  Connecticut 

pose,  to  the  dictum  of  the  Connecticut  lawgivers. 
How  Kenilworth  was  gradually  changed  to  Kil- 
lingworth  in  the  vernacular,  and  then  in  the  writ- 
ten records,  until  it  was  adopted  as  the  town's 
official  name,  would  make  a  curious  study  for  a 
philologist. " 

We  had  spent  the  morning  driving  leisurely 
through  the  old  town  of  Killingworth,  over  brown 
heathery  hills,  through  patches  of  forest  showing 
more  russet  than  gold  now,  beside  the  winding 
Indian  River,  and  through  thrifty,  well-kept  farms. 
In  Killingworth  village,  about  five  miles  from  the 
sea,  we  had  lingered  longest.  We  found  here  a 
fine  old  street,  of  noble  width,  a  mile  and  a  half 
long,  lined  with  substantial  dwellings  and  country 
seats,  some  of  them  with  that  air  of  antiquity 
which  assures  one  that  generations  have  come  and 
gone  under  their  roof-trees.  We  strolled  about 
the  village  pelted  by  the  falling  leaves,  and  came 
at  length  to  the  burying-ground,  whose  molder- 
ing  Hie  jacets  suggested  to  my  friend  much  in- 
teresting gossip  of  some  of  the  once  famous  char- 
acters of  the  place.  He  began  by  reading  from 
a  mossy  monument: 

"In  memory  of  Dr.  Benjamin  Gale,  who  after 
a  life  of  usefulness  in  his  profession  and  a  labori- 


Killingworth  and  Its  Birds  63 

ous  study  of  the  prophecies,  fell  asleep  May  6, 
A.  D.  1790,  set.  seventy-five,  fully  expecting  to  rise 
again  under  the  Messiah,  and  to  reign  with  him 
on  earth.  '  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth  and 
that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth 
and  my  eyes  shall  behold  him. ' 

"Dr.  Gale,"  said  my  friend,  "was  one  of  the 
first  of  that  peculiar  sect  whose  vagaries  concern- 
ing the  second  coming  of  Christ  have  made  much 
amusement  for  the  thoughtless.  His  zeal  carried 
him  to  great  lengths  on  some  occasions,  tales  of 
which  still  linger  about  the  village.  He  was  not 
so  well  balanced  a  man  as  his  contemporary,  the 
Rev.  Jared  Eliot,  D.D.  This  gentleman  was  a 
grandson  of  the  famous  apostle  to  the  Indians, 
and  besides  being  an  able  divine  was  an  excellent 
physician,  an  adept  in  all  the  natural  sciences  so  far 
as  they  were  then  known,  and  who  wrote  several 
treatises  on  agriculture  for  the  benefit  of  farmers. 
Perhaps  his  most  important  discovery  was  that 
the  fine  black  sand  found  on  the  shores  of  the 
Sound,  and  in  greater  abundance  on  Block  Island, 
was  in  effect  iron  ore;  after  many  attempts  he 
succeeded,  in  1761,  in  smelting  some  of  it,  for 
which  he  was  honored  with  a  medal  by  the  London 
Society  for  the  Encouragement  of  the  Arts. 


64  In  Olde  Connecticut 

"A  man  of  as  great  inventive  powers  as  Con- 
necticut ever  produced  was  born  and  reared  in 
this  village.  The  story  of  Abel  Buell  reads  like 
a  romance.  A  few  years  previous  to  the  Revolu- 
tion, he  was  apprenticed  to  Ebenezer  Chittenden, 
the  old  goldsmith  in  whose  shop  on  the  main  street 
yonder  were  made  solid  gold  and  silver  ware  of  all 
sorts  for  the  village  dames.  The  boy's  taste  and 
skill  is  said  early  to  have  made  him  a  favorite  with 
his  master.  At  nineteen  he  married;  at  twenty 
he  was  detected  altering  the  five-pound  notes  of 
the  colony  into  those  of  larger  denominations. 
The  neighbors,  it  seemed,  had  frequently  seen  a 
light  in  his  window  at  uncanny  hours,  and  finally 
a  village  Paul  Pry  procured  a  ladder  and  climbing 
up  to  his  window  detected  him  in  the  very  act. 
So  cleverly  was  the  work  done  by  this  amateur, 
that  the  raised  notes  could  only  be  detected  by 
comparing  them  with  the  stubs  on  the  colony  book. 
Then,  of  course,  there  arose  a  hubbub.  Matthew 
Griswold,  afterward  the  famous  governor  and 
statesman,  was  then  King's  Attorney,  and  con- 
ducted the  prosecution;  but  the  prisoner's  youth 
and  previous  good  conduct  pleaded  so  powerfully 
for  him,  that  the  case  was  pressed  as  slightly  as 
possible,  and  a  light  sentence,  for  those  days,  was 


Killingworth  and  Its  Birds  65 

passed.  He  was  condemned  to  be  imprisoned, 
cropped,  and  branded.  This  sentence,  too,  was 
very  lightly  carried  into  effect  in  the  following 
manner:  A  small  piece  of  his  ear  was  cut  off, 
which  was  kept  warm  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  till 
it  could  be  placed  on  the  ear,  where  it  soon  grew 
again.  The  branding  was  done  high  up  on  the 
forehead,  and  consisted  in  holding  a  hot  iron, 
shaped  like  the  letter  F  (Forger)  against  the  skin, 
until  the  culprit  could  say  "  God  save  the  King. " 
"Buell  was  imprisoned  first  at  Norwich,  but 
after  a  while  the  influence  of  his  friends  secured 
him  the  limits  here  at  Killingworth.  He  improved 
the  opportunity  to  make  '  a  lapidary  machine, '  the 
first,  it  is  said,  ever  constructed  in  this  country, 
and  by  means  of  it  produced  a  beautiful  ring,  con- 
sisting of  a  large  stone  set  about  a  number  of 
smaller  ones,  which  he  presented  to  Matthew 
Griswold  as  a  token  of  respect  and  gratitude. 
This  ring,  it  is  said,  procured  him  his  pardon — 
at  least,  he  was  soon  a  free  man.  Soon  after, 
about  1770,  he  removed  to  New  Haven,  probably 
in  order  to  begin  unknown  a  new  career.  Ber- 
nard Romans,  the  earliest  American  map-maker, 
was  then  engaged  on  his  map  of  North  America, 
and  at  once  enlisted  Buell  in  his  service.  The 

E 


66  In  Olde  Connecticut 

west  coast  of  Florida  was  entirely  unknown  then, 
being  still  under  Spanish  rule,  and  Buell  was  sent 
to  Pensacola  to  survey  and  map  it.  According  to 
Buell's  story,  the  Spanish  Governor  received  his 
mission  with  suspicion,  and  quietly  laid  a  trap  for 
him.  One  day  a  merchant  whose  acquaintance 
he  had  made,  after  complimenting  his  skill,  asked 
him  to  show  him  how  to  break  the  Governor's 
seal,  open  the  letter,  and  then  seal  it  up  again  so 
as  to  escape  detection.  Buell  unsuspiciously  com- 
plied, and  was  summarily  arrested  and  imprisoned 
on  an  island.  Here,  however,  he  succeeded  in 
building  a  boat,  and  with  a  boy  for  his  sole  com- 
panion put  to  sea,  and  after  a  voyage  of  several 
days  succeeded  in  reaching  one  of  our  southern 
ports.  The  map  was  engraved  by  Buell  and 
Amos  Doolittle,  and  printed  at  New  Haven  during 
the  Revolution  from  types  cast  by  Buell  himself. 
His  work  on  the  map  led  the  Legislature  to  restore 
him  his  civil  rights,  and  after  the  close  of  the  war 
he  was  employed  in  coining  copper  pennies  for  the 
new  Government.  A  machine  he  constructed  for 
this  work,  capable  of  coining  one  hundred  and 
twenty  a  minute,  is  said  to  have  been  the  progen- 
itor of  those  now  in  use.  He  was  in  England  early 
in  1800,  and  in  one  of  the  interior  towns  found 


Killingworth  and  Its  Birds  67 

the  city  fathers  in  a  high  state  of  excitement  over 
an  iron  bridge  recently  built,  which,  through  some 
error  of  construction,  was  rendered  useless.  Buell 
stopped  a  few  days,  and,  by  introducing  some 
slight  changes,  remedied  the  whole  matter.  He 
received  for  his  skill,  it  is  said,  a  purse  of  £100. 
He  died  friendless  and  alone  in  the  New  Haven 
Almshouse  in  1825. " 

Seated  in  the  huckleberry  patch  we  made  some 
inquiry  whether  the  old  town  was  the  scene  of  one 
of  Longfellow's  most  charming  poems.  All  read- 
ers of  the  poet  are  familiar  with  his  "Birds  of 
Killingworth, "  one  of  the  tales  told  at  the  Way- 
side Inn.  The  legend,  it  will  be  remembered,  is 
that  the  farmers  of  Killingworth  in  town  meeting 
assembled  put  a  price  on  the  heads  of  birds.  The 
poem  describes  the  convening  of  the  town  meeting, 
the  preceptor's  fruitless  plea  for  the  birds,  the 
scenes  of  destruction  that  followed  the  passage  of 
the  act,  and  its  sad  results,  which  ended  finally 
in  the  revocation  of  the  cruel  edict;  the  whole  be- 
ing prettily  interwoven  with  the  love  of  the  pre- 
ceptor for  "  fair  Almira  in  the  upper  class, "  and 
its  fortunate  issue.  We  asked  our  friend  if  the 
poem  was  founded  on  a  literal  fact,  and  as  he 
could  give  us  no  satisfaction,  we  applied  some 


68  In  Olde  Connecticut 

time  after  by  letter  to  Mr.  Henry  Hull,  the  ven- 
erable town  clerk  of  Killingworth.  Mr.  Hull's 
reply  was  as  follows: 

"  I  received  your  letter  in  due  time,  and  as  soon 
as  I  could,  looked  in  the  record  of  town  votes, 
supposing  the  town  gave  a  bounty  for  killing  cer- 
tain birds  and  animals,  but  I  did  not  find  any 
vote.  One  thing  I  know  by  actual  knowledge: 
When  I  was  young,  say  fourteen  years,  the  men 
in  the  northern  part  of  the  town  did  yearly  in  the 
spring,  choose  two  leaders,  and  then  the  two  sides 
formed.  Their  rules  were:  The  side  that  got 
beaten  should  pay  the  bills.  Their  special  game 
was  the  hawk,  the  owl,  the  crow,  the  blackbird, 
and  any  other  bird  considered  to  be  mischievous 
in  pulling  up  corn  and  the  like.  Also  the  squirrels, 
except  gray  squirrels,  and  all  other  animals  that 
were  considered  to  be  mischievous.  Some  years 
each  side  would  bring  them  in  by  the  bushel;  it 
was  followed  up  only  a  few  years,  for  the  birds 
began  to  grow  scarce.  This  was  probably  the 
basis  for  Mr.  Longfellow's  poem. " 

This  letter  was  sent  to  Mr.  Ernest  Longfellow, 
with  a  request  for  information  on  the  subject, 
and  elicited  the  following  reply  from  Mr.  Samuel 
Longfellow,  the  brother  of  the  poet: 


Killingworth  and  Its  Birds  69 

"CAMBRIDGE,  October  21. 
"DEAR  SIR:  My  nephew  has  handed  me  your 
letter  enclosing  Mr.  Hull's  in  regard  to  my  broth- 
er's poem,  '  The  Birds  of  Killingworth. '  I  can- 
not say  whether  the  writer  of  the  poem  had  ever 
heard  the  story  of  the  crusade  against  the  birds, 
which  Mr.  Hull  relates.  I  found  among  his  pa- 
pers a  newspaper  cutting — a  report  of  a  debate 
in  the  Connecticut  Legislature  upon  a  bill  offering 
a  bounty  upon  the  heads  of  birds  believed  to  be 
injurious  to  the  farmers,  in  which  debate  a  mem- 
ber from  Killingworth  took  part.  The  name  may 
have  taken  his  fancy,  and  upon  this  slight  hint 
he  may  have  built  up  his  story.  You  will  observe 
that  in  the  poem  he  throws  back  the  time  to  a 
hundred  years  ago.  But  I  cannot  speak  with  cer- 
tainty upon  this  matter. " 


CHAPTER  VI 

NEW   LONDON,   AN   OLD   NEW    ENGLAND   SEAPORT* 

AS  one  glides  into  the  quaint  old  port  of  New 
London,  in  Southeastern  Connecticut,  over 
one  of  the  many  coves  that  form  a  feature  of  its 
harbor,  one  may  get  a  glimpse,  between  the  an- 
tiquated warehouses,  of  several  old  hulks  fast  to 
their  piers,  and  as  disconsolate  in  appearance  as 
anything  well  can  be  whose  work  in  life  is  accom- 
plished. Nature  is  slowly  breaking  them  up, — 
doing  what  their  owners  lack  the  courage  to  do. 
Their  spars,  broken  from  their  fastenings,  hang 
at  every  conceivable  angle  above  the  decks;  their 
cordage  is  frayed  and  rotten;  flakes  of  paint  have 
peeled  from  their  seamy  sides,  and  down  in  their 
great  empty  holds  the  bilge-water  ripples  an  ac- 
companiment to  the  murmur  of  the  waves  that  lap 
their  sides  as  the  tides  come  and  go.  These  are 
the  whaleships,  the  agents  that  brought  prosperity 
and  even  opulence  to  the  little  provincial  town. 
*  From  "  Lippincott's  Magazine."  January,  1888. 


New  London  71 

M are  Liberum  is  the  legend  on  the  city  seal,  and 
never  was  a  more  expressive  motto  penned.  The 
town  is  one  of  the  favored  few  so  situated  that 
they  must  seek  their  fortune  on  the  seas  or  not 
at  all.  It  is  prettily  built  on  a  bluff  or  headland 
having  a  little  plateau  at  the  base,  which  is  in- 
dented with  several  small  bays  or  coves,  thus  giv- 
ing it  a  magnificent  water  front.  On  the  east  is 
the  Thames  (river  it  is  called,  but  really  an  estuary 
of  the  Sound),  extending  inland  fourteen  miles  to 
the  busy  city  of  Norwich,  and  navigable  half  its 
length  for  vessels  drawing  twenty-five  feet  of  water. 
The  harbor  is  the  best  on  the  coast,  sheltered, 
capacious,  with  no  bar,  no  swift  currents,  no  ice, 
and  furnished  with  a  natural  breakwater  in  the 
hills  and  vales  of  Fisher's  Island,  eight  miles  from 
its  mouth. 

But  two  avenues  of  employment  were  open  to 
the  early  colonists, — agriculture  and  commerce. 
Debarred  the  first  by  the  rocky  and  sterile  nature 
of  their  soil,  the  men  of  New  London  turned  with 
generous  confidence  to  their  neighbor,  the  gray  old 
sea.  Unlike  the  men  of  Nantucket,  however,  they 
were  seamen  from  the  first,  not  mere  fishermen. 
With  the  aid  of  good  Master  Coit  they  built  pin- 
naces and  shallops  of  twenty  and  thirty  tons'  bur- 


72  In  Olde  Connecticut 

den,  and  set  out  on  trading  voyages  along  the 
coast.  They  even  rounded  the  Cape  of  the  Cod, 
and  sailed  proudly  into  the  port  of  Boston  with 
their  cargoes  of  peltries  and  wampum,  to  be  ex* 
changed  for  clothing,  household  goods,  powder 
and  lead.  A  little  later,  grown  bolder,  they  ex- 
tended their  voyages  to  Newfoundland,  and  de- 
lighted the  blue-nosed  Gauls  of  Reynolds'  and 
Petty  Harbor  with  their  stores  of  country-cured 
beef  and  pork  and  other  provisions.  Their  en- 
terprise also  led  them  southward.  They  early 
made  voyages  to  New  York,  stopping  for  traffic 
at  every  considerable  town  along  the  coast,  and 
even  ventured  as  far  down  the  stormy  coasts 
as  Virginia  and  the  "  Menbadoes "  in  quest  of 
tobacco,  dry  hides  and  buckskins.  But  these 
were  mere  efforts  of  the  fledgling  trying  its 
wings,  skirmishings  along  the  outskirts  of  the 
great  field  which  later  they  were  to  occupy  in 
force. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century  Mas- 
ter Coit  was  succeeded  in  his  shipyard  by  his  son 
James,  and  his  two  sons-in-law,  Hugh  Mould  and 
John  Stevens.  These  master  builders  constructed 
three  fine  barques.  With  the  largest  of  these,  the 
"Endeavor,"  under  his  command,  a  brave  sea- 


New  London  73 

man,  Captain  Samuel  Chester,  bearing  in  mind, 
no  doubt,  the  couplet,  that 

Little  ships  should  keep  near  shore, 
But  larger  craft  may  venture  more, 

determined  on  a  voyage  to  the  West  Indies.  Very 
quietly  he  laid  in  a  cargo  of  provisions,  pork  and 
beef  well  cured,  cooper's  stock,  and  several  tough, 
hardy  ponies,  bought  from  the  neighboring  farm- 
ers, which  he  judged  would  find  a  ready  sale  on 
the  plantations;  then,  with  his  papers  duly  signed 
by  Master  John  Smith,  the  first  customs  collector 
of  the  port,  he  sailed  away  around  the  Fisher's 
Island  headlands  and  out  to  sea.  Twenty-eight 
days  sufficed  to  lay  his  vessel  alongside  the  quay 
in  the  tropical  island  of  Barbadoes, — an  island 
prolific  of  flowers,  fruits,  and  sweets,  the  lower- 
most of  the  pretty  group  of  the  Caribbees. 

Captain  Chester  found  the  planters  quite  ready 
to  open  a  trade  with  his  colony,  and  was  home 
again  in  less  than  two  months,  the  hold  of  his 
little  vessel  well  filled  with  sugar  and  molasses, 
and,  half  hidden  by  the  barrels  and  hogsheads,  a 
cask  of  rum,  shipped  by  the  dons  with  a  view  to 
opening  up  a  trade  in  the  article.  Unfortunately 
for  them,  however,  the  magistrates  of  Connecticut 


74  In  Olde  Connecticut 

had  observed  the  bad  effects  of  the  Barbadoes  ar- 
ticle on  the  people  of  the  Massachusetts  Planta- 
tion and, shortly  before  the  "Endeavor's"  arrival, 
had  sent  down  to  Master  Smith  an  order  sternly 
interdicting  the  landing  of  "Barbadoes  liquor, 
commonly  called  rum,  kill-devil,  and  the  like," 
in  any  place  in  their  jurisdiction,  under  pain 
of  forfeiture  to  the  commonwealth.  Captain 
Chester  had,  therefore,  the  pleasure  of  deliver- 
ing the  precious  cask  to  the  authorities,  and 
probably  of  seeing  it  knocked  down  to  the  high- 
est bidder  on  government  account,  although  he 
lived  to  see  the  obnoxious  article  the  most  impor- 
tant and  lucrative  item  in  the  trade  of  the  two 
colonies. 

As  the  barrels  and  hogsheads,  bubbling  over 
with  sweetness,  trundled  up  from  the  "Endeav- 
or's" hold,  they  opened  the  eyes  of  the  shrewd, 
calculating  skippers  who  crowded  the  wharf,  and 
of  the  portly,  linen-clad  merchants  whose  office 
windows  overlooked  the  busy  scene.  From  this 
moment  a  spirit  of  unrest,  of  shadowy  hopes  and 
ambitions,  seized  upon  the  little  community. 
People  began  to  talk  in  warehouse,  office,  store, 
of  the  fortunes  to  be  made  in  the  West  India  trade, 
and  several  firms  were  not  slow  to  embark  in  it. 


New  London  75 

Captain  John  Jeffrey,  a  master  shipbuilder,  was 
induced  to  come  over  from  Portsmouth,  England. 
Land  for  a  shipyard  was  given  him  in  Groton,  on 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  Thames,  and  both  yards 
were  kept  busy  supplying  the  eager  demands  of 
the  merchants.  Docks  were  constructed,  and 
great  barn-like  warehouses,  which  still  remain  to 
show  how  well  men  builded  in  those  days,  were 
erected,  while  streets  blocked  with  drays  and  piers 
cumbered  with  merchandise  attested  the  growing 
commerce  of  the  town. 

The  palmy  days  of  the  West  India  trade  ex- 
tended from  1720  nearly  to  the  period  of  the  Rev- 
olution. The  annals  of  few  seaport  towns  portray 
such  pleasant  scenes  of  bustle  and  animation  as 
were  to  be  witnessed  in  the  port  during  this  era 
of  prosperity.  A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  that 
north  and  west  of  the  town  is  a  large  extent  of 
country,  of  which  it  is  the  natural  outlet.  Its 
cargoes  for  export  were  mostly  drawn  from  this 
region,  which  also  absorbed  the  larger  share  of 
its  imports.  These  goods  were  transported  to 
and  from  the  town  in  heavy,  capacious  goods- 
wagons  drawn  by  horses,  and  sometimes,  if  the 
distance  was  short,  by  oxen.  It  was  no  uncom- 
mon sight  of  a  summer  morning — four  vessels 


76  In  Olde  Connecticut 

perhaps  then  loading  at  the  docks  for  Barbadoes 
or  Martinique* — for  a  hundred  of  these  creaking, 
lumbering  vehicles  to  pass  in  procession  down  the 
village  street,  each  drawn  by  its  team  of  four  or 
six  horses,  attended  by  suffocating  clouds  of  dust, 
and  presided  over  by  a  red-shirted,  sombrero- 
crowned  teamster,  bronzed  and  muscular,  and 
armed  with  a  long  whip,  which  ever  and  anon  he 
flourished  about  the  ears  of  the  leaders  with  a  re- 
port like  that  of  a  pistol.  The  wagons  were  laden 
with  as  varied  a  stock  of  commodities  as  their 
points  of  departure  had  been  different.  There 
were  wheat  and  pease  in  bags,  and  kiln-dried  corn 
in  barrels,  tierces  of  hams,  barrels  of  pork  and 
beef,  pots  of  butter,  round,  savory  cheeses  from 
the  green  pastures  of  Lebanon  and  Colchester,  and 
— pleasing  break  in  the  uniformity  of  the  line — 
piles  of  pipe-staves  of  aromatic  spruce,  and  hickory 
hoops  neatly  shaven  in  remote  country  work- 


*  In  proof  that  my  picture  is  not  overdrawn  I  cite  the 
following  extract  from  the  annals  of  the  port:  "On  the 
7th  June,  1717,  Prentiss,  Christophers,  and  Picket,  in 
their  several  vessels,  arrived  from  Barbadoes.  They  left 
the  harbor  together,  arrived  out  the  same  day,  sailed  again 
on  their  return  voyage  the  same  day,  and  made  Montauk 
Point  together." 


New  London  77 

Although  the  wagons  now  appeared  in  contin- 
uous line,  they  had  begun  their  voyaging  at  widely 
scattered  points.  Some  bore  the  products  of  Put- 
nam's rocky  farm  at  Pomf ret ;  others  had  gathered 
their  stores  along  the  shores  of  Gardner's  Lake 
and  the  romantic  banks  of  the  Yantic;  one  had 
rumbled  down  from  Norwich,  perhaps  from  the 
near  vicinity  of  the  little  drug  store  where  Bene- 
dict Arnold  weighed  out  potions  and  meditated  a 
military  career;  while  its  neighbor  had  journeyed 
from  Coventry,  and  was  laden,  perhaps,  with  the 
products  of  the  pleasant  homestead  which  nour- 
ished Captain  Nathan  Hale  through  infancy  and 
youth  and  imparted  the  elements  of  such  noble 
manhood.  There  were  few  towns  in  what  are 
now  Tolland,  Windham  and  New  London  coun- 
ties but  had  their  representatives  in  the  group. 
Behind  the  wagoners  frequently  came  the  drovers, 
with  horses  and  cattle  for  the  plantations.  The 
passing  of  this  motley  procession,  the  creaking, 
lumbering  vehicles,  the  oaths  and  gesticulations 
of  the  drivers,  the  clouds  of  dust,  and  the  occa- 
sional stampede  of  frightened  colts  or  steers,  at- 
tracted groups  of  sightseers,  and  presented  ele- 
ments of  the  picturesque  that  one  might  go  far 
in  these  degenerate  days  and  not  witness.  The 


78  In  Olde  Connecticut 

teamsters  formed  a  not  inconsiderable  guild  at  this 
time.  In  connection  with  the  drovers  they  had  a 
tavern  of  their  own  near  the  water  front,  at  which 
they  always  put  up,  and  where  their  teams  were 
stabled.  Their  cargoes  sold  and  unladen,  they 
would  assemble  at  the  tavern  and  indulge  in  merry 
carousals,  and  after  large  quantities  of  vile  tobacco 
and  viler  Barbadoes  liquor  had  been  consumed 
would  parade  the  streets  in  noisy  bands,  to  the 
no  small  dismay  of  the  order-loving  citizens.  On 
these  occasions,  if  they  fell  in  with  an  officer  from 
one  of  his  Majesty's  cruisers  lying  in  the  harbor 
home-faring  from  a  visit  to  some  fair  Juliet  of  the 
town,  it  generally  happened  that  he  found  himself 
and  his  smart  uniform  rolled  in  the  gutter.  But 
such  breaches  of  the  peace  were  neither  frequent 
nor  flagrant.  In  the  morning,  their  orgies  ended, 
they  shipped  their  cargoes  of  sugar,  molasses  and 
rum,  and  returned  to  their  distant  homes  in  much 
the  same  manner  as  they  had  come. 

But  the  golden  days  of  the  West  India  traffic 
passed  with  the  closing  of  the  colonial  era,  never 
to  return.  The  war  of  the  Revolution  closed  the 
port  and  put  a  stop  to  all  commercial  operations. 
The  town  was  vastly  patriotic  during  the  war,  but 
fought  best  where  she  was  most  at  home, — on  the 


New  London  79 

seas.  Her  ships  were  turned  into  privateers,  and, 
manned  by  her  seamen, — accounted  the  best  and 
bravest  privateersmen  that  ever  floated, — scoured 
the  ocean  in  all  directions  in  search  of  the  enemy's 
merchantmen.  Many  were  their  adventures,  trag- 
ical and  otherwise,  many  their  deeds  of  prowess; 
and  were  it  not  that  the  writer's  pen  is  set  to  record 
the  more  peaceful  exploits  of  the  merchant  marine, 
he  could  a  hundred  moving  tales  relate  in  which 
they  figured  as  chief  actors, — tales  of  attack  and 
repulse,  chase,  flight,  capture,  reprisal  and  strat- 
agems innumerable, — and  how  now  and  then  a 
privateer  sailed  proudly  into  the  home  port,  the 
captured  enemy  vessel  following  in  her  wake  with 
the  British  lion  on  her  ensign,  floating  heels  up- 
ward, and  the  docks  lined  with  eager  patriots, 
who  greeted  the  conquering  heroes  with  salvos  of 
huzzas. 

The  period  that  followed  the  war  extending 
down  as  late  as  the  year  1819  is  one  not  pleasant 
to  contemplate;  those  loyal  to  the  city  speak  of 
it  with  a  species  of  pain,  and  gladly  pass  it  by  to 
present  brighter  phases  of  its  history.  For  this 
entire  period,  with  the  exception  of  transient 
bursts  of  activity  in  1795  and  1805,  the  business  of 
the  port  was  at  a  standstill.  There  was  literally 


80  In  Olde  Connecticut 

no  inducement  for  ventures  on  the  ocean.  Be- 
cause France  and  England  chose  to  be  at  war, 
neutral  commerce  must  perforce  be  swept  from 
the  seas,  and,  in  the  case  of  American  commerce, 
at  least,  this  dictum  of  the  powers  was  fully  carried 
out  by  the  almost  insane  acts  of  our  own  Govern- 
ment. New  London  suffered  in  those  days  more 
than  many  of  her  sister  ports,  her  trade  having 
been  largely  with  the  rival  powers  and  their  de- 
pendencies. The  quiet  of  a  rural  town  settled 
upon  her  streets,  the  brown  sea-moss  gathered  on 
the  unused  wharves,  great  ships  lay  idly  at  their 
moorings  until  they  fell  to  pieces  with  age,  the  rat 
and  cockroach  domiciled  in  the  empty  warehouses ; 
only  the  croakers  were  busy  going  about  the  streets 
and  writing  "Ichabod!"  on  the  walls. 

The  first  faint  waves  of  the  whaling  excitement 
reached  the  town  in  1819;  why  at  this  particular 
juncture  rather  than  before  it  is  difficult  to  deter- 
mine. Undoubtedly  destiny  controlled  the  mat- 
ter, for  the  opportunity  had  long  lain  in  the  city's 
grasp.  Whales  had  been  seen  in  the  Sound  from 
the  earliest  times,  and  captured  by  boats  from  the 
shore.  Those  curious  in  the  matter  will  find  in 
the  records  of  a  General  Court  held  at  Hartford, 
in  May,  1647,  an  order  giving  Mr.  Whiting  and 


New  London  81 

others  the  exclusive  privilege  of  catching  whales 
''within  these  liberties"  for  the  period  of  seven 
years.*  In  1785,  Sag  Harbor,  on  the  Long  Island 
coast,  sent  the  brig  "  Lucy, "  McKay  master,  and 
the  brig  "Ann,"  Havens  master,  on  a  whaling 
voyage.  The  "Lucy"  returned,  May  15,  with 
three  hundred  and  sixty  barrels  of  oil  on  board; 
the  "Ann"  June  4,  with  three  hundred  barrels. 
The  success  of  this  venture  created  quite  a  ripple 
of  excitement  in  nautical  circles.  Thomas  Allen, 
the  eccentric  genius  who  compiled  the  marine  lists 
of  the  "  New  London  Gazette,"  appended  to  his  an- 
nouncement of  their  return  the  following  stirring 
piece  of  advice:  "Now,  my  horse  jockeys,  beat 
your  horses  and  cattle  into  spears,  lances,  harpoons 
and  whaling-gear,  and  let  us  all  strike  out.  Many 
spouts  ahead;  whales  are  plenty,  and  to  be  had 
for  the  catching. "  But  the  shrewd  old  veterans 
of  the  West  India  trade  still  declined  the  hazard- 
ous enterprise.  In  1805  a  spirited  attempt  was 

*An  old  diary  of  the  date  of  1718,  still  preserved  in  the 
city,  contains  the  following  item:  "  Jan.  13,  Comfort  Davis 
hath  hired  my  whale-boat  to  go  a-whaling  to  Fisher's  Is- 
land till  the  20th  of  next  month,  to  pay  20  shillings  for 
her  hire,  and  if  he  stays  longer  30  shillings.  If  she  be 
lost,  and  they  get  nothing,  he  is  to  pay  me  £3,  and  if  they 
get  a  fish,  £3  10s." 


82  In  Olde  Connecticut 

made  to  open  the  whale-fishery  and  make  it  one  of 
the  industries  of  the  port.  Early  in  that  year  the 
New  London  Company,  of  which  Dr.  S.  H.  Lee 
was  the  controlling  spirit,  purchased  of  Captain 
John  Barber  his  new  vessel,  the  "  Dauphin,"  which 
had  been  built  with  special  reference  to  the  whale- 
fishery.  Shortly  after,  the  company  purchased 
the  ship  "  Leonidas, "  of  New  York.  Both  vessels 
sailed  in  1806,  and  returned  full  in  1807.  Several 
other  voyages  were  made  by  them  with  equal  suc- 
cess; but  the  Embargo  Act  and  the  war  which 
shortly  followed  summarily  ended  this  and  all  other 
traffic.  The  business  revived  in  1819,  influenced, 
no  doubt,  by  the  high  price  to  which  whale-oil  ad- 
vanced, following  its  general  use  for  illuminating 
purposes,  and  from  this  period  became  the  one  en- 
grossing, hazardous,  lucrative  pursuit  of  the  port. 
Two  men  were  the  pioneers  of  the  trade  in  New 
London — Thomas  N.  Williams  and  Daniel  Des- 
lon,  the  former's  name  still  borne  by  one  of  the 
only  two  firms  in  the  city  that  continue  in  the  bus- 
iness. Both  were  experienced  merchants  and 
practical  seamen.  Williams  sent  out  the  brig 
"Mary,"  Captain  Davis,  and  Deslon  the  brig 
"  Mary  Ann, "  Captain  Englis,  and  the  ship  "  Car- 
rier, "  Captain  Alexander  Douglas  (all  three  com- 


New  London  83 

manders  had  made  voyages  during  the  temporary 
revival  of  business  in  1805-08).  The  "Mary" 
sailed  down  the  Atlantic  coast,  cruised  about  the 
Brazil  Banks,  and  was  back  in  ten  months  and 
twenty  days  with  seven  hundred  and  forty-four 
barrels  of  whale-oil  and  seventy-eight  of  sperm  on 
board.  The  "Carrier"  returned  about  the  same 
time  with  nine  hundred  and  twenty-eight.  These 
voyages  were  counted  fairly  successful;  but  when 
the  "Mary"  returned  from  her  second  voyage, 
after  a  year's  absence,  with  two  thousand  barrels 
on  board,  the  possibilities  of  the  whale-fishery 
fairly  dawned  on  the  minds  of  merchant  and  skip- 
per, and  much  the  same  scenes  of  excitement  were 
witnessed  as  had  occurred  at  the  founding  of  the 
West  India  trade,  nearly  a  century  before.  The 
shipyards  were  unequal  to  the  demands  made 
upon  them  by  the  eager  merchants,  and  agents 
were  sent  into  the  neighboring  ports  as  far  west- 
ward as  New  York  to  purchase  ships.  The  skip- 
per on  the  Sound  in  those  days,  when  asked  his 
destination,  would  generally  answer,  "New  Lon- 
don and  a  market, "  but  it  was  his  craft,  and  not 
her  cargo,  for  which  the  market  was  sought.  Ves- 
sels of  pretty  much  every  description  were  pur- 
chased if  they  had  the  two  requisites  of  stout 


84  In  Olde  Connecticut 

timbers,  and  good  carrying  capacity,  and  no  more 
novel  and  interesting  sight  could  be  witnessed  than 
a  whaling-fleet  in  those  days,  made  up,  as  it  was, 
of  every  class  of  vessels  known  to  nautical  science, 
from  the  stately  three-decked  ship  to  the  dimin- 
utive but  rakish  schooner. 

By  1830  six  heavy  firms  and  fifty  vessels  were 
actively  engaged  in  the  industry,  and  the  town 
once  more  began  to  assume  the  appearance  of  an 
active  commercial  center.  The  streets  were  again 
vocal  with  the  din  of  traffic.  The  great  ware- 
houses were  filled  with  bales  of  whalebone  and 
boxes  of  pure  white,  odorless  spermaceti.  On  the 
docks  thousands  of  barrels  of  oil  were  piled  tier 
above  tier,  the  upper  layer  being  covered  with  sea- 
weed and  kept  moist  by  daily  douches  of  sea- 
water;  this,  it  was  early  discovered,  being  the  best 
method  of  preserving  the  oleaginous  product. 
Heavy  farm  wagons  laden  with  provisions  again 
rattled  into  the  town;  and  all  day  long  the  din  of 
the  anvil  and  tap  of  the  cooper's  adze  were  to  be 
heard  in  the  long,  low  shops  that  covered  every 
available  inch  of  ground  along  the  docks,  where 
the  stout  oaken  casks  with  hoops  of  iron  which 
were  to  hold  the  precious  product  were  manufac- 
tured, hundreds  in  a  day. 


New  London  85 

The  whaling  industry  was  far  more  beneficial 
to  the  town  in  general  than  the  West  India  trade 
which  it  supplanted.  The  latter  made  a  few  rich, 
but  added  little  to  the  general  wealth  of  the  town 
and  nothing  to  its  population;  in  addition,  it  made 
the  vile  liquors  of  the  tropics  almost  as  free  as 
water,  introduced  a  looseness  of  morals  from 
which  the  port  suffered  for  years.  The  whaling 
system,  on  the  other  hand,  was  cooperative  in 
spirit  and  practice,  and  its  immense  profits  were 
divided  equitably  among  those  engaged  in  it. 
The  owner  was  careful  to  see  that  the  right  de- 
scription of  vessel  was  furnished,  and  that  she  was 
properly  equipped  and  provisioned.  The  cooper 
put  no  defective  stock  in  his  barrels;  the  black- 
smith tested  his  iron  before  using  it.  The  captain 
on  the  quarter-deck,  mate,  sailing-master,  boat- 
steerer,  cook  in  the  galley,  sailor  before  the  mast, 
each  felt  that  on  his  individual  skill,  energy,  and 
fidelity  depended  in  a  measure  the  success  of  the 
voyage  and  the  magnitude  of  the  "share"  that 
would  fall  to  him  at  its  close;  and  this  spirit  of 
self-interest  placed  the  town  in  the  front  rank  of 
the  oil-producing  ports,  and  poured  two  millions 
of  dollars  into  its  coffers  annually  for  a  term  of 
years. 


86  In  Olde  Connecticut 

The  stores  of  a  vessel  of  the  first  class  fitted  for 
a  two  years'  voyage  consisted  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  barrels  of  pork,  two  hundred  barrels  of  beef, 
and  fifty  of  flour,  with  bread,  rice,  corn,  vinegar, 
codfish,  pease  and  molasses  in  proportion.  Her 
equipment  comprised  lances,  harpoons,  spades, 
several  hundred  fathoms  of  line,  and  between 
two  and  three  thousand  empty  barrels.  She  was 
manned  by  from  thirty  to  thirty-five  men,  who 
were  generally  selected  by  the  captain.  She  also 
carried  a  carpenter,  a  cooper,  and  occasionally, 
if  one  presented  himself,  a  surgeon,  but  ordinarily 
the  captain's  medicine  chest  was  the  only  resource 
in  case  of  sickness.  In  shaping  their  courses  the 
vessels  always  followed  the  movements  of  their 
prey.  Early  voyages  extended  no  farther  than 
the  Brazil  Banks,  as  by  the  time  these  were  ex- 
hausted the  vessel  was  "full;"  later  the  cold,  bar- 
ren shores  of  Desolation  Island,  Delagoa  Bay,  the 
west  coast  of  Patagonia,  the  islands  of  the  Pacific, 
the  Kamtchatkan  Sea,  Baffin's  Bay,  and  the  icy 
waters  of  the  Arctic  yielded  fruitful  harvests  to 
the  bold  voyagers.  A  favorite  two  years'  voyage 
in  later  times  was  to  proceed  first  to  the  Gulf  of 
Guinea,  thence  around  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
through  the  Indian  and  Pacific  Oceans  to  the  Sea 


New  London  87 

of  Kamtchatka,  which  was  the  half  way  station 
in  this  circumnavigation  of  the  globe.  From  this 
point  the  vessel  proceeded  south  through  the 
Pacific,  touching  at  the  Sandwich  and  Society 
Islands,  coasted  along  the  Patagonian  shore, 
rounded  Cape  Horn,  and  then  proceeded  home- 
ward ina  the  Brazil  Banks  and  the  West  Indies. 
When,  after  all  this  weary  round,  she  entered  the 
familiar  harbor,  if  she  counted  two  thousand  bar- 
rels of  oil  in  her  hold  her  voyage  was  considered 
a  successful  one;  if  three  thousand,  a  fortunate 
one.*  On  being  laid  alongside  the  dock  a  careful 
inventory  of  her  cargo  was  taken,  as  to  both  qual- 
ity and  quantity;  it  was  then  divided  in  the  fol- 
lowing proportions:  to  the  captain,  one-sixteenth; 
the  first  mate,  one  twenty -fifth;  the  second  mate, 
one-fortieth;  the  third  mate,  one  sixty-fifth;  the 
boat-steerer,  one  seventy-fifth;  and  each  seaman, 
one  one  hundred  and  twenty-fifth;  the  remainder 
going  to  the  owners,  from  which,  however,  they 

*  Even  the  latter  figure  was  sometimes  exceeded.  Cap- 
tain James  Smith,  in  three  successive  voyages  to  the  Island 
of  Desolation,  in  1840-42-44,  made  four  thousand  barrels 
each  time,  and  the  ship  "  Robert  Bowne  "  is  recorded  as 
coming  into  port  in  1848  with  four  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  fifty  barrels  on  board.  But  these  were  exceptional 


88  In  Olde  Connecticut 

must  deduct  the  cost  of  equipment,  insurance  and 
other  expenses.  Whale-oil  has  been  known  to 
sell  in  the  port  as  high  as  forty  cents  per  gallon, 
and  as  low  as  eighteen  and  one-half;  but,  placing 
the  average  price  at  thirty  cents,  and  the  average 
"  catch  "  at  two  thousand  five  hundred  barrels,  we 
find  that  the  ordinary  seamen  received  $190  as  his 
share;  the  boat-steerer,  $316.50;  the  mates,  $365, 
$475,  and  $950,  respectively;  and  the  captain, 
$1,484 ;  leaving  to  the  owners  $14,440.  If  to  these 
figures  we  add  as  much  more  for  sperm-oil,  sper- 
maceti and  whalebone,  we  have  a  handsome  re- 
turn for  the  outfit  and  labor. 

When  a  town  has  a  hundred  vessels  and  two 
thousand  men — half  its  population — at  sea,  it  be- 
comes weatherwise;  the  volumes  it  chiefly  con- 
sults are  the  sky,  the  winds,  the  sea,  and  the 
clouds;  then  the  cry  of  the  sea-gull  forebodes  a 
storm;  seaweed  and  kelp,  borne  in  by  the  tides, 
are  harbingers  of  wreck;  each  trivial  incident  pos- 
sesses a  deep  significance;  and  though  cheerful- 
ness and  even  mirth  may  seem  to  prevail,  a  latent 
element  of  dread,  a  feeling  that  disaster  is  about 
to  fall  upon  the  town,  lurks  in  every  breast.  After 
a  storm,  wan  women  climb  the  hills  and  scan  the 
sea-line  with  anxious  eyes;  the  wise  old  sea-dogs 


New  London  89 

who  linger  about  the  taverns  in  various  stages 
of  dismemberment  shake  their  heads;  and  news 
from  Race  Rock,  Point  Judith,  and  Montauk  is 
awaited  with  feverish  anxiety.  The  most  stren- 
uous efforts  were  made  in  those  days  to  obtain 
early  intelligence  of  the  approach  of  vessels  mak- 
ing the  harbor.  Each  of  the  eight  principal 
shipping  firms  had  its  own  code  of  signals.  Keen 
eyes  were  ever  on  the  watch,  and  when  a  home- 
faring  vessel  pushed  her  bows  around  the  head- 
lands of  Fisher's  Island  with  her  signals  at  the 
peak,  her  name,  condition  and  owners  were  at 
once  known  to  the  eager  watchers.  If  she  flew 
the  blue  crest  of  Williams  &  Havens,  it  was  known 
to  half  the  town  in  a  few  moments  that  their  good 
ship  the  "  Leonidas, "  last  reported  at  Fayal,  and 
daily  expected,  was  making  the  harbor;  or  if  she 
flew  the  red  pennant  of  Benjamin  Brown's  Sons, 
it  could  be  no  other  than  their  ship  the  "  Clematis," 
which  had  sailed  round  the  world  in  ten  months 
and  twenty-nine  days.  News  of  the  arrival  of  a 
ship  spread  rapidly  through  the  town, — if  long 
overdue  or  reported  lost  it  was  announced  by  joy- 
ous peals  of  the  church  bells, — and  long  before 
the  vessel  reached  her  pier  the  wharves  were 
crowded  with  women  and  children  half  frantic 


90  In  Olde  Connecticut 

with  joy  at  the  prospect  of  meeting  dear  ones  after 
years  of  absence.  And  when  at  last  the  vessel 
was  made  fast,  and  wives  and  mothers  were  locked 
in  the  embrace  of  manly  arms,  even  a  pessimist 
must  have  been  impressed  with  the  capacity  for 
happiness  exhibited  at  times  by  the  great  heart  of 
humanity.  There  was  a  dark  side  to  the  picture, 
however,  and  far  too  frequently  the  smothered 
groan  or  the  cry  of  despair  was  heard,  as  a 
familiar  face  was  not  found  amid  the  throng,  and 
some  sympathizing  comrade  related  the  particu- 
lars of  the  death  of  husband  or  son,  perhaps  from 
fever  in  the  tropics,  or  amid  Arctic  ice,  or  in  the 
casualties  attending  the  capture  of  their  prey.  It 
was  rarely  that  a  ship  came  in  with  the  roll  of 
her  crew  intact.  In  the  oldest  churchyard  are 
some  pathetic  memorials  of  the  dangers  of  the 
traffic.  It  is  a  pretty  place,  this  churchyard,  on 
the  crest  of  the  hill  on  which  the  city  is  built,  al- 
beit sadly  neglected  now,  with  lush  grass  covering 
the  graves  and  its  stones  scarred  and  broken  by 
the  elements.*  Here,  side  by  side  with  governors, 
senators,  judges,  generals,  the  fathers  of  the  com- 
monwealth, rests  the  dust  of  many  of  these  toilers 

*  This  in  1888.     The  ground  is  now  kept  in  excellent 
order. 


New  London  91 

of  the  sea;  nor  are  the  tombstones  rare  that  bear 
inscriptions  like  the  following:  "In  memory  of 
Pyram  Adams,  Esq.,  who  died  July  1,  1776,  aged 
64  years,  and  of  his  three  sons,  William,  who  died 
at  St.  Pierre's,  Martinico,  Apr.  4,  1778,  aged  33 
years;  Alexander,  who  was  lost  at  sea  in  the  year 
1782,  aged  35  years;  and  Thomas,  who  died  in 
the  island  of  St.  Helena,  Sept.  8,  1815,  aged  55 
years. "  How  many  of  the  warm  young  lives  of 
the  town  were  sacrificed  in  the  traffic  cannot  be 
computed.  The  two  other  churchyards  within 
the  city  limits,  and  the  pretty  Cedar  Grove  Cem- 
etery, a  mile  outside,  hold  the  dust  of  many,  but 
the  large  majority  "  dropped  in  their  heavy-shotted 
hammock-shrouds"  into  their  ocean  sepulcher, 
and  their  names  are  borne  by  no  mortuary  piles. 
To-day  the  tide  of  the  city's  prosperity  is  again 
at  its  ebb,  and  the  stranger  who  sojourns  here  is 
surprised  to  find,  amid  the  evidences  of  former 
business  activity,  the  quiet  and  retirement  of  an 
inland  country  town,  albeit  there  are  sanguine 
ones  who  hold  that  the  flood  will  return  again, 
and  that  a  brilliant  commercial  future  yet  awaits 
the  port.  No  old  continental  town  with  a  thou- 
sand years  of  history  could  be  more  attractive  to 
the  man  of  vivid  fancy  and  antiquarian  tendencies. 


92  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Even  to  make  the  tour  of  the  docks  intelli- 
gently, mastering  all  they  teach,  would  require 
weeks.  The  shipping  offices,  the  warehouses,  the 
junk  shops,  the  government  pier,  with  the  "Re- 
lief" lightship  alongside,  its  lighthouse  stores  and 
other  impedimenta  scattered  about,  and  the  genial, 
generous  old  tar  in  charge,  who  lets  one  into  all 
the  secrets  of  Uncle  Sam's  coast  service  with  a 
freedom  simply  astonishing  in  a  government 
official,  the  gray  old  hulks  swinging  to  the  tide, 
the  fishing-smacks  and  the  fishermen  with  their 
weird  tales  of  the  sea,  the  custom  house,  a  massive 
stone  building,  presided  over  by  a  gallant  Major 
of  the  late  war,  wherein  the  drowsy  air  of  a  by- 
gone period  prevails  and  two  ancient  clerks  trans- 
act all  the  routine  business, — each  is  a  study  in 
itself,  and  presents  new  phases  and  possibilities 
as  one  advances. 

Another  point  of  interest  is  the  Old  Mill,  in  a 
secluded  dell  forming  part  of  the  old  Winthrop 
estate,  where  Jordan's  Brook  comes  tumbling  and 
foaming  down  amid  bowlders,  to  plunge  at  last 
into  the  Mill  Cove.  This  mill  was  built  by  one 
Richard  Manwaring  in  1712,  and,  after  grinding 
steadily  for  a  century  and  a  half,  now  rests  from 
its  labors,  having  become  the  property  of  a  gentle- 


New  London  93 

man  who  will  preserve  it,  with  all  its  appointments 
complete,  as  a  relic  of  the  olden  time. 

The  shipping  office  of  to-day  gives  little  hint  of 
the  activity  that  once  prevailed  there.  It  occu- 
pies a  long,  low  building  adjoining  the  warehouses 
of  the  firm,  with  its  rear  windows  looking  out  on 
the  company's  docks.  Three  desks  accommodate 
the  clerical  force  now  employed;  its  walls  are  hung 
with  lithographs  depicting  various  nautical  scenes, 
— the  company's  vessels,  the  pursuit  and  killing 
of  the  whale,  the  capture  of  seals  and  sea  elephants 
in  which  latter  industry  the  firm  has  still  several 
vessels  employed. 

In  its  rear,  almost  poking  her  bowsprit  into  the 
window,  is  a  whaling  barque  "  Nile, "  a  veteran 
of  1840,  a  ship  with  a  history  exceeded  by  none 
in  the  merchant  service,  her  owner  asserts  with  a 
touch  of  pardonable  pride.  She  is  of  the  shape 
and  rig  in  vogue  forty  years  ago, — square  at  the 
bows,  wide  amidships,  lined  with  six  feet  of  solid 
oak  forward  as  a  protection  against  Arctic  ice, 
three-decked,  capacious  and  clumsy.  She  es- 
caped the  fate  of  others  of  her  class,  that  went 
to  form  the  bottom  blockade  of  Charleston  Harbor 
in  1861,  by  being  in  commission  at  the  time  and 
absent  on  a  whaling  cruise.  In  the  summer  of 


94  In  Olde  Connecticut 

1865  she  was  out  on  the  northwest  coast  after 
whales  in  company  with  a  score  or  more  of  craft 
of  her  calling  from  New  London,  Nantucket,  New 
Bedford,  and  other  towns  along  shore.  Early  one 
fine  morning  the  "Shenandoah"  was  discovered 
in  the  midst  of  the  fleet,  burning  and  pillaging 
indiscriminately.  Six  vessels  were  burned  as  they 
lay  powerless  to  escape  the  swift  steamer,  and 
their  crews  and  such  parts  of  their  cargo  as  were 
deemed  sufficiently  valuable  transferred  to  the 
privateer,  which  then  approached  the  "  Nile. " 
She  was  not,  however,  destroyed,  but  a  bond  was 
exacted  from  her  captain  declaring  the  fact  of  her 
capture  on  the  high  seas  and  acknowledging  her 
to  be  the  property  of  the  Confederate  States  of 
America.  One  hundred  and  twenty  men,  the 
crews  of  the  burned  vessels,  were  then  transferred 
to  the  "Nile,"  and  she  was  released,  while  the 
"Shenandoah"  stood  on  her  course  in  quest  of 
other  quarry.  The  "  Nile,"  with  her  castaways  on 
board,  made  the  best  of  her  way  to  San  Francisco, 
and  there  had  the  satisfaction  of  learning  that  the 
war  had  come  to  an  end  some  months  before. 

The  quarter  of  the  city  of  which  we  write  is  the 
favorite  resort  of  the  veteran  shipmasters  of  the 
port,  although  but  four  or  five  of  those  who  were 


New  London  95 

active  in  the  stirring  days  of  1830-40  remain  to 
tell  the  tale.  Although  safely  moored  in  a  snug 
harbor,  the  worthy  old  tars  find  that  time  hangs 
heavy  on  their  hands.  They  read  the  shipping- 
lists  in  the  newspapers,  walk  about  the  streets  and 
docks,  meet  in  store  or  office,  and  live  over  old 
times.  They  are  fond  of  lounging  in  the  cool 
corridors  of  the  custom  house,  and  of  picking  up 
there  such  items  of  marine  intelligence  as  may  be 
floating  about;  but  after  all  is  said  and  done  there 
are  hours  that  are  tedious  for  lack  of  employment. 
I  know  of  no  class  of  men  more  capable  of  satis- 
fying an  omnivorous  thirst  for  information.  Hav- 
ing visited  in  the  course  of  their  business  all  coun- 
tries and  seas,  and  studied  with  Yankee  inquisi- 
tiveness  and  acuteness  every  object  or  incident 
that  presented  itself,  they  have  almost  insensibly 
become  possessed  of  a  fund  of  knowledge  that 
many  a  scholar  would  give  years  to  obtain.  Let 
not  the  tyro,  however,  imagine  it  an  easy  thing  to 
unlock  these  stores.  A  becoming  humility  must 
be  observed,  with  due  deference  to  the  other's 
opinion,  and  instant  appreciation  of  such  bits  of 
anecdote  as  are  doled  out,  before  that  generous 
confidence  can  be  established  which  will  lead  the 
veteran  to  display  to  advantage  his  unlimited  pow- 


96  In  Olde  Connecticut 

ers  of  narration.  Various  expedients  are  adopted 
to  pass  away  the  time.  One  is  a  grocer,  and 
weighs  out  coffee  and  samples  sugar  as  calmly  as 
once  he  rode  the  billowy  waste  or  poised  the  lance 
for  the  death-thrust.  Another  has  a  little  office 
down  by  the  docks,  in  the  rear  of  a  hardware 
store,  with  a  junk  shop  underneath,  and  writes 
policies  of  insurance  for  such  patrons  as  call  upon 
him.  He  is  surrounded  by  the  insignia  of  his 
former  calling, — the  log-book  of  his  first  voyage, 
maps  and  charts,  nautical  instruments,  the  signal 
code  of  the  port, — and,  as  his  window  looks  out 
on  the  harbor  and  on  the  blue  Fisher's  Island 
headlands,  which  his  ship  has  rounded  scores  of 
times  in  making  the  port,  it  is  fair  to  assume  that 
reminiscences  of  a  well-spent  seafaring  life  of  fifty 
years  occupy  by  far  the  largest  share  of  the  worthy 
captain's  thoughts. 

The  log-book  of  the  ship  "Wabash, "  which 
sailed  from  New  London,  July  23,  1829,  lies  be- 
fore us, — a  quaint  volume  with  covers  of  parch- 
ment and  leaves  formed  of  the  coarse,  thick  paper 
in  use  fifty  years  ago  and  still  affected  by  gentle- 
men of  antiquarian  tendencies.  In  its  pages  are 
entered  day  by  day  the  minutiae  of  the  voyage,  — 
wind,  weather,  bearings,  discovery  of  a  wreck, 


New  London  97 

calling  at  forts,  provisions  purchased  or  con- 
sumed, sickness,  death,  mutiny,  desertion, — while 
every  capture  of  a  whale  is  celebrated  by  a  pen- 
and-ink  drawing  of  the  monster  in  his  dying  agony. 
So  the  record  continues  for  weeks  and  months 
and  years,  until  the  world  has  been  circumnavi- 
gated and  the  vessel  again  enters  the  home  port. 


CHAPTER  VII 

GROTON   AND   MYSTIC 

GROTON  BANK,  Groton  Centre,  Poquon- 
nock,  Noank,  West  Mystic,  Mystic,  Head-of- 
Mystic,  Fort  Hill,  Pequot  Hill,  Porter's  Rocks- 
all  are  localities  more  or  less  notable  in  the  town 
of  Groton,  which  lies  across  the  Thames  from 
New  London,  and  covers  a  territory  nearly  eight 
miles  square.  It  is  a  land  of  breezy  ridges  and 
sunny  valleys,  with  stern,  precipitous  granite 
ledges  facing  the  Sound  and  walling  in  the  valleys, 
a  region  almost  undiscovered  by  the  tourist,  but 
well  worthy  his  attention,  as  much  for  its  natural 
beauty  as  for  its  historical  interest.  Originally 
it  was  a  part  of  New  London,  known  locally  as 
the  "east  side,"  but  its  inhabitants  in  1705  suc- 
ceeded in  inducing  the  General  Court  to  incorpo- 
rate them  as  a  separate  town,  which  town  they 
named  Groton  in  honor  of  Governor  Winthrop's 
English  home  in  Suffolk  County. 

Our  first  expedition  into  Groton  was  in  search 


Groton  and  Mystic  99 

of  the  town  records;  to  our  surprise  and  pleasure 
we  found  them  lodged  in  one  of  the  oldest  houses 
in  America,  and  one  which  is  perhaps  the  best 
specimen  of  colonial  architecture  extant.  It  is 
known  as  the  old  Avery  mansion,  and  was  built 
in  1656  by  Judge  James  Avery,  one  of  the  original 
settlers  of  Groton.  It  is  a  house  of  character. 
Even  the  casual  passer-by  notices  it,  and  wishes 
to  stop  and  inquire  as  to  its  history.  It  is  bal- 
lasted by  two  heavy  stone  chimneys,  its  frame  is 
of  white  oak,  heavy  enough  to  furnish  forth  two 
modern  houses,  its  roofs  are  high  and  steep,  the 
upper  story  projecting  over  the  lower  as  in  the 
blockhouses  of  colonial  Indian  warfare.  In  two 
large  safes  in  the  front  parlor  the  town  records 
are  kept.  This  parlor  is  a  study.  Its  ceiling  is 
low,  and  in  the  center  is  a  huge  beam,  white- 
washed, and  still  bearing  the  marks  of  the  hewer's 
broad  ax.  The  sills — 8X8  beams — are  placed 
above  the  flooring,  and  are  as  sound  in  appearance 
as  when  laid  more  than  two  hundred  and  thirty 
years  ago.  The  present  owner  is  the  ninth  Avery 
to  whom  the  old  house  has  descended  from  eldest 
son  to  eldest  son,  with  the  broad  green  fields  ad- 
joining it.  We  found  the  aged  Town  Clerk,  Mr. 
James  Avery,  busy  transcribing  the  generations 


100  In  Olde  Connecticut 

that  had  swarmed  from  the  old  hive  for  a  gene- 
alogy of  the  Averys  now  being  compiled  in  Roch- 
ester, New  York. 

If  these  old  white-oak  timbers  could  speak,  we 
should  hear  about  the  funeral  of  the  first  James 
Avery  in  1681,  who,  having  been  a  magistrate  on 
the  bench  and  representative  to  the  General  Court, 
was  buried  suitably  to  his  rank.  We  should  have 
details  of  the  grand  funeral — the  name  of  the  per- 
son "  appointed  to  look  to  the  burning  of  the  wine 
and  beating  of  the  cider  for  the  occasion  " — of  the 
gallons  of  wine,  the  barrels  of  cider,  the  hundred- 
weights of  sugar,  the  gloves  and  gold  rings  fur- 
nished the  pallbearers,  and  the  white  kid  gloves 
for  the  attending  ministers.  For  a  funeral  cost 
something  in  those  days — often  as  much  as  £200. 

In  1718  the  old  house  saw  the  first  innovation 
of  moment.  Tea  was  brought  over  from  the  set- 
tlement at  New  London,  and  passed  from  hand  to 
hand  as  the  family  and  a  few  neighbors  sat  around 
the  capacious  fireplace.  Madame  Avery  was 
skilled  in  all  manner  of  cooking,  but  she  admitted 
that  she  knew  not  how  to  prepare  this  bitter  herb 
for  the  table.  At  last  the  council  decided  that  it 
should  be  cooked  and  served  with  boiled  pork,  as 
greens;  but  there  were  many  wry  faces  when  the 


Groton  and  Mystic  101 

dish  came  to  be  eaten.  At  last  they  learned  to 
steep  it,  as  they  did  their  boneset  and  other  medi- 
cinal herbs,  and  to  disguise  it  with  milk  and  sugar, 
but  it  was  months  before  the  family  came  to  enjoy 
the  strange  beverage.  Two  years  later  they  had 
their  first  sight  of  wheat  flour;  rye  and  Indian 
corn  having  been  before  that  the  staple  bread- 
stuffs.  Then,  in  1730,  they  were  thrown  into 
spasms  of  curiosity  at  seeing  a  horse  and  wagon 
driven  up  the  lawn.  Hitherto  the  only  means  of 
locomotion  had  been  on  horseback,  the  lady  sitting 
behind  her  cavalier  on  a  pillion,  with  her  arm 
about  his  waist.  A  little  later,  in  1733,  the  family 
gathered  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  inspected, 
tasted  and  passed  judgment  upon  two  or  three 
Irish  potatoes  which  had  been  raised  in  the  garden 
in  beds,  much  as  we  now  raise  carrots  and  beets. 
In  1734  the  old  timbers  might  have  lost  their  iden- 
tity by  being  smothered  in  paint,  which  that  year 
was  used  for  the  first  time  in  this  country;  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  however,  the  old  house  waited  a 
century  longer  before  receiving  its  first  coat  of 
paint.  In  1740  the  first  sleigh  drove  up  to  the 
door,  and  the  Avery  boys  and  girls,  of  whom  al- 
ways there  was  a  houseful,  tumbled  in  for  their 
first  sleigh  ride.  By  and  by  war  came,  and  the 


102  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Averys  that  had  gone  out  from  the  old  hive  made 
a  good  showing  in  the  ranks.  The  thunder  of  the 
guns  on  the  day  Fort  Griswold  was  defended  was 
plainly  heard  here,  and  in  the  afternoon  a  breath- 
less horseman  came  riding  up  with  news — nine 
Averys  had  been  killed  in  defense  of  the  fort  and 
many  more  wounded,  among  the  latter  Col.  Parke 
Avery,  then  living  in  the  old  house;  and  very  soon 
a  long  line  of  wagons  came  over  the  hill,  bearing 
the  wounded  to  be  tenderly  nursed  back  to  health 
and  vigor  by  the  patriotic  women  of  the  home- 
stead. It  was  in  1783  that  the  first  wall  paper 
made  its  appearance,  and  years  after  that  before 
its  white  and  sanded  floors  were  made  acquainted 
with  carpets.  The  old  house  has  recently  had  a 
very  narrow  escape  from  destruction,  for  the  new 
line  of  the  New  York,  Providence  and  Boston 
Railroad,  now  building  to  connect  with  the  new 
bridge  across  the  Thames,  passes  within  a  few 
feet  of  its  western  gable,  and  had  not  the  engineers 
deflected  their  line  a  trifle,  would  have  passed 
through  it.  It  is  a  pity  that  none  of  the  old  family 
furniture  has  been  preserved.  "My  mother  had 
fourteen  children, "  said  Mr.  Avery,  speaking  of 
this  matter,  "and  every  time  they  came  to  visit 
me  they  would  take  away  some  article  of  furni- 


Groton  and  Mystic  103 

ture,  saying  that  if  they  gave  me  the  old  house, 
they  must  have  the  furniture — so  it  is  all  gone. " 
The  ancient  records  of  Groton  found  in  the  old 
house  are  interesting,  but  not  so  much  so  as  the 
story  of  the  man  who  indicted  them.  This  first 
Town  Clerk  was  named  John  Davie,  an  educated 
man,  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1681.  His  writing 
in  the  town  books  is  in  a  firm,  clear,  clerkly  hand, 
and  the  ink  has  faded  but  little  during  the  nearly 
two  hundred  years  it  has  been  spread  upon  the 
page.  Soon  after  his  graduation  he  married  a 
Hartford  woman,  daughter  of  John  Richards  and 
sister  to  Governor  Saltonstall's  wife,  and  settled 
down  to  the  life  of  a  farmer  here  on  Poquonnock 
Plains.  Six  children  were  born  to  him  here,  as  he 
has  recorded  in  the  town  register.  One  day  he 
was  hoeing  corn  on  the  plains  in  company  with 
John  Packer,  a  neighbor,  both  men  in  homespun 
and  barefooted,  with  their  sleeves  rolled  up  to  their 
elbows  and  their  trousers  up  to  their  knees,  when 
a  stranger,  clad  in  the  latest  London  fashion,  ap- 
peared, and  asked  the  official  if  he  was  John 
Davie.  "  Yes,  "  was  the  reply.  "  Then  I  salute 
you  Sir  John  Davie  of  Greedy  Court,  Devon, "  he 
replied.  Tradition  says  that  the  new  Baronet  fin- 
ished his  row — he  was  hoeing  on  a  wager  with  his 


104  In  Olde  Connecticut 

fellow-worker — then  accompanied  his  visitor  to 
the  brown  homestead,  treated  him  to  cake  and 
wine,  and  learned  the  whole  story — how  his  uncle, 
Sir  John  Davie,  Bart.,  had  died  without  male 
issue,  leaving  him  sole  heir.  In  a  short  time  the 
Poquonnock  farmer  exchanged  the  brown  farm- 
house for  baronial  halls.  He  never  forgot  his  na- 
tive land,  however,  and  always  retained  his  inter- 
est in  Groton.  He  aided  the  settlers  to  build  their 
new  church,  and  when  it  was  finished  presented 
it  with  a  silver  communion  set.  He  also  made 
gifts  to  his  relatives,  and  was  one  of  the  early 
benefactors  of  Yale  College.  We  remarked  on 
hearing  this  story  that  it  read  like  a  romance;  it 
is,  however,  sober  truth. 

They  tell  a  story  here  of  the  war  of  1812 
worth  relating:  One  day  Commodore  Hardy  in 
the  "Ramilies"  and  Sir  Hugh  Pigott  in  the 
"  Orpheus  "  hove  in  sight,  and  the  people  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  New  London  was  to  be  at- 
tacked. Major  Smith  at  once  manned  Fort  Gris- 
wold  with  volunteers  from  the  vicinity,  while  the 
women  and  children  fled  into  the  interior.  At  the 
last  moment  the  Major  found  he  had  no  wadding 
for  his  cannon,  and  sent  out  a  squad  in  search  of 
flannel  for  that  purpose.  Unfortunately  all  the 


Groton  and  Mystic  105 

houses  and  stores  were  closed,  and  they  could 
secure  none.  Returning,  they  met  on  the  street 
Mrs.  Anna  Bailey,  who,  on  hearing  their  story, 
dropped  her  flannel  petticoat,  and  told  them  to 
give  it  to  the  British  at  the  cannon's  mouth.  The 
officers  and  garrison  were  g-reatly  elated  by  the 
lady's  spirit,  and  Hardy  would  no  doubt  have 
fared  ill  had  he  attacked.  When  the  danger  was 
over,  Commodore  Decatur  gave  a  grand  ball,  at 
which  Mrs.  Bailey  was  the  heroine  of  the  occasion. 
Later  her  fame  spread  throughout  the  country, 
and  she  was  visited  by  Lafayette,  Monroe,  Jack- 
son, and  other  notables.  "  Mother  Bailey  "  died 
in  1851  aged  ninety-two  years. 

Mystic  village  is  the  point  at  which  one  should 
station  himself  in  order  to  discover  the  picturesque 
and  untraveled  ways  of  the  ancient  town  of  Groton 
and  possess  himself  of  her  more  interesting  history. 
It  lies  between  the  Pequot  and  Narragansett  coun- 
tries (the  village  includes  the  old  Pequot  fort  where 
Captain  Mason  gained  his  victory  over  that  war- 
like tribe),  and  in  various  directions  are  localities 
famed  in  the  border  warfare  of  colonial  times. 
The  mouth  of  the  Mystic  just  beyond  the  town 
is  studded  with  islands.  Fisher's  Island  lies  just 
across  the  narrow  Fisher's  Island  Sound.  The 


106  In  Olde  Connecticut 

river  for  three  miles  above  the  village  is  a  broad 
and  deep  estuary,  at  places  expanding  into  bays, 
and  above  this  its  bed,  quite  to  its  sources  in 
the  Lantern  Hill  range,  is  charmingly  romantic 
and  picturesque.  North  and  East  lie  those  vast 
stretches  of  sunken  lands  which  once  formed  the 
refuge  of  the  Indians  when  hard  pressed.  They 
are  a  strange  feature  of  the  landscape — in  places 
showing  ponds  of  inky-black  water,  again  quiv- 
ering jelly-like  masses  of  bogs,  in  other  places 
thickets  of  bushes  and  aquatic  plants. 

We  have  communed  with  local  antiquaries  in 
regard  to  the  origin  of  the  name  Mystic,  with  no 
satisfactory  results,  however,  and  are  left  to  form 
our  own  conjectures.  Perhaps  the  play  of  the 
fogs  around  the  hills  and  rocky  islets — a  curtain 
that  rises  and  falls,  advances  and  recedes,  pro- 
ducing the  fleeting  scenes  of  the  phantasmagoria — 
suggested  it;  perhaps  the  name  came  from  the 
sorceries  of  Indian  medicine-men;  perhaps  from 
some  sect  of  mystics  that  originated  here.  But 
however  the  name  came,  it  is  pretty  sure  to  stick. 
The  people  are  pleased  with  it;  it  is  novel  and 
distinctive,  gives  them  an  individuality,  so  to 
speak.  The  old  port  is  quiet  now.  Occasion- 
ally a  collier  sails  in  or  a  fishing  steamer  puts  to 


Groton  and  Mystic  107 

sea.  Thirty  years  ago  it  was  a  busy,  bustling 
center  of  the  shipbuilding  industry.  Some  of  the 
old  ways  and  sail  lofts  remain,  and  now  and  then 
you  meet  a  veteran  of  the  shipyards  who  is  not 
averse  to  giving  you  reminiscences  of  better  days 
when  Mystic  was  famous  the  world  over  for  her 
ships,  when  vessels  were  advertised  as  Mystic- 
built  bottoms  because  of  their  high  reputation. 

The  first  Mystic  shipbuilders  were  Messrs. 
Greenman  &  Co.,  who  began  in  1827  in  a  small 
way  at  "  head  of  Mystic.  "  This  firm  began  with 
smacks  and  schooners,  then  built  brigs,  barks 
and  clippers  for  the  Southern  and  California  trade 
— 125  vessels  in  all.  The  business  so  increased 
that  by  1852-55  there  were  five  shipyards  in  op- 
eration, and  nearly  500  men — calkers,  joiners, 
carpenters,  blacksmiths — went  down  to  the  yards 
to  work  of  a  morning.  Of  these  firms,  besides 
the  Greenmans  above  mentioned,  the  most  im- 
portant were  Irons  &  Grinnell,  who  began  oper- 
ations in  1840,  and  built  in  all  620  vessels;  Charles 
Mallory  &  Co.,  who  began  in  1849,  and  built 
52  vessels,  and  Hill  &  Grinnell,  who  succeeded 
the  old  firm  of  Irons  &  Grinnell  on  the  death  of 
Irons  in  1858,  and  built  16  vessels,  including  5 
Spanish  gunboats. 


108  In  Olde  Connecticut 

The  type  of  vessel  that  gave  distinction  to  Mys- 
tic was  that  known  as  the  "  half  clipper. "  The 
first  clippers  intended  for  the  California  trade 
were  built  for  speed  chiefly.  Freights  were  high 
and  carrying  capacity  was  not  so  much  considered. 
But  in  a  few  years  freights  fell,  and  a  demand 
arose  for  vessels  that  were  both  swift  and  capa- 
cious. Mr.  M.  C.  Hill,  then  foreman  for  Charles 
Mallory  &  Co.,  originated  the  model  of  the  hair 
clipper.  The  old  gentleman  is  still  living  in  Mys- 
tic, and  gave  us  some  interesting  reminiscences 
of  his  craft  in  the  days  when  it  made  the  name  of 
Mystic  familiar  in  uttermost  ports. 

"  The  first  shipyard  here, "  he  began,  "  was  that 
of  Greenman  &  Co.  I  well  remember  when  the 
five  shipyards  were  in  operation,  with  half  a  score 
of  ships  on  the  stocks,  and  500  men  busy  upon 
them.  The  most  famous  ships  ?  Well,  there  was 
the  '  Pampero,'  the  first  California  clipper,  built 
in  Mallory's  yard  by  myself;  the '  Andrew  Jack- 
son, '  built  by  Irons  &  Grinnell,  and  the  '  Twi- 
light,'  built  by  the  Mallorys  after  my  drawings, 
were  both  famous  for  speed.  They  left  New  York 
for  the  Golden  Gate  on  the  same  day  and  hour, 
and  arrived  in  San  Francisco  on  the  same  day 
and  within  an  hour  of  one  another.  The  bark 


Groton  and  Mystio  109 

'  Aquidneck, '  built  by  myself  for  Baltimore  mer- 
chants in  the  Rio  trade,  performed  a  feat  never 
surpassed.  She  made  the  trip  from  Baltimore  to 
Rio  in  time  never  equaled  by  steamer  or  sailing 
vessel.  I  suppose  the  most  notable  shipyard  in 
Mystic  was  that  of  the  Mallorys.  D.  D.  Mallory, 
the  founder,  came  here  from  Waterford,  Conn., 
when  quite  a  young  man,  and  began  life  as  a  sail- 
maker.  By  industry  and  economy  he  accumu- 
lated capital  sufficient  to  engage  in  the  whaling 
business,  and  later  embarked  in  shipbuilding. 
Besides  many  Government  vessels  he  built  eight 
of  the  fifteen  gunboats  for  the  Spanish  Govern- 
ment which  were  built  in  Mystic.  There  were 
thirty  in  all,  you  remember,  in  the  contract  taken 
by  Ericsson,  fifteen  being  built  in  New  York  and 
fifteen  here.  The  war  struck  the  first  blow  at  the 
prosperity  of  our  shipyards.  The  depredations 
of  Confederate  privateers  led  shipowners  to  reg- 
ister under  the  British  flag.  Then  the  age  of 
steam  and  iron  vessels  came,  and  there  was  little 
demand  for  wooden  craft  such  as  our  yards  turned 
out." 

We  were  not  slow  in  discovering  the  many  de- 
lightful drives  in  the  vicinity  of  Mystic.  Chief 
of  these  is  the  drive  to  Lantern  Hill,  about  six 


110  In  Olde  Connecticut 

miles  above  the  village.  The  road  winds  along 
the  curves  of  the  estuary  for  the  first  three  miles, 
and  then  leads  you  up  the  narrow  wooded  valley 
of  the  Mystic,  through  meadow  intervales,  under 
frowning  crags,  until  at  length  you  reach  the  base 
of  the  hill.  It  is  a  long  climb  to  the  top,  but  when 
you  reach  it  the  view  is  superb.  It  is  the  highest 
land  hereabouts  and  forms  a  landmark  for  vessels 
coming  in  from  sea.  Montauk  Light  is  thirty 
miles  nearer  the  ocean,  and  stands  upon  a  con- 
siderable bluff,  yet  sailors  approaching  Montauk 
Point  sight  first  this  rugged  Connecticut  hilltop. 
Of  course,  from  so  lofty  a  position  the  eye  ranges 
over  a  wide  and  varied  landscape.  Town  and 
village  with  their  church  spires  are  prettily  blended 
with  the  dark-green  foliage  of  June,  and  beyond 
is  the  Sound  with  its  islands  and  the  dark-blue 
ocean. 

At  other  times  we  drive  to  Fort  Hill,  about  two 
miles  west  of  the  village.  On  this  hill  stood  the 
central  stronghold  of  the  Pequots,  described  by 
Captain  Mason  in  his  account  of  the  battle  as 
being  two  miles  from  the  fort  on  Pequot  Hill, 
stormed  by  himself.  Here  is  another  magnificent 
view.  Another  delightful  drive  is  to  Stonington, 
six  miles  east;  from  the  summit  of  the  ridges 


Groton  and  Mystic  111 

which  lie  between,  one  gets  delightful  views  of 
land  and  water.  The  little  local  walks  are  also 
very  delightful.  West  Mystic  bristles  all  over 
with  stern  granite  crags,  on  which  and  amid  which 
the  houses  of  the  village  nestle.  On  one  of  these, 
commanding  the  ship  channel,  and  some  forty 
feet  above  it,  stood  Fort  Rachel,  one  of  the  de- 
fenses of  Mystic  in  the  war  of  1812.  A  friend  who 
accompanied  us  thither  for  a  Sunday  evening  stroll 
told  its  story  as  follows : 

"In  the  war  of  1812,  as  you  know,  the  British 
paid  much  more  attention  to  this  part  of  the  coast 
than  to  any  other,  several  of  their  larger  vessels 
patrolling  our  waters  almost  constantly.  On  the 
12th  of  June,  1813,  an  armed  cutter  of  the  enemy, 
with  a  launch  in  tow,  was  seen  approaching  up 
the  ship  channel  yonder,  with  the  evident  design 
of  plundering  and  burning  the  town,  as  he  had 
several  of  our  coast  villages.  A  masked  battery 
of  one  twelve-pounder,  named  Fort  Rachel,  after 
a  local  heroine,  had  already  been  thrown  up  on 
this  rock,  which,  as  you  see,  commands  the  ship 
channel  completely.  An  express  hastily  sum- 
moned the  minutemen  of  the  village  to  the  fort, 
which  was  unmanned.  Twenty  men  responded. 
There  was  powder  for  the  gun,  but  no  ball,  but 


112  In  Olde  Connecticut 

spikes,  scrap  iron  and  pieces  of  chain  were  hastily 
gathered  and  thrust  into  the  muzzle.  The  British, 
quite  unsuspicious  of  danger,  were  allowed  to 
approach  to  about  where  the  drawbridge  now 
stands,  when  the  gun  was  fired  at  point-blank 
range,  sweeping  the  cutter's  decks.  As  soon  as 
she  could  recover  from  the  confusion  the  cutter 
manned  her  launch,  and  sent  a  detachment  ashore 
to  carry  the  cliff,  which,  to  appearance,  was  un- 
defended; but  while  this  was  being  done,  our  lads, 
under  Captain  Haley,  had  time  to  load,  and  as 
the  launch  neared  the  shore  again  discharged 
their  weapon  with  such  good  judgment  that  the 
craft  was  sent  to  the  bottom,  and  most  of  her 
men  were  killed  or  wounded.  The  British  com- 
mander then  turned  and  fled.  In  plundering  and 
burning  houses  tenanted  by  defenseless  women 
and  children  he  had  been  measurably  successful, 
but  for  contending  against  spikes  and  scrap  iron 
he  had  no  stomach.  This  Haley,  with  four  other 
Mystic  men — Burrows,  Park,  Washington  and 
Tufts — was  the  hero  of  another  gallant  affair. 
For  two  days  after  Hardy  attacked  Stonington, 
the  British  fleet  lay  off  the  Hummocks,  and  our 
boys  thought  they  would  try  a  stratagem  on  them. 
They  manned  a  large  sloop-rigged  fishing  boat, 


Groton  and  Mystic  113 

loaded  her  with  boxes,  barrels  and  bags,  and 
sailed  out  past  the  fleet  as  if  intending  to  run  the 
blockade.  Meantime,  one  looking  through  the 
hill  yonder  might  have  seen  Capt.  Jonathan 
Wheeler's  company  of  Groton  militia  concealing 
themselves  amid  the  rocks  of  Groton  Long  Point. 
The  British  eagerly  pursued  the  American  sloop 
in  the  familiar  barge  used  in  their  predatory  ex- 
cursions. The  sloop  at  first  tried  to  outsail  her 
pursuers,  but  apparently  failing  in  the  attempt, 
turned  and  ran  in  upon  Groton  Long  Point,  where 
the  men  beached  her  and  fled  on  shore.  The 
British  eagerly  pursued  them,  and  when  once  on 
land  were  met  by  a  volley  from  the  militia,  which 
killed  several,  wounded  more,  and  sent  the  sur- 
vivors into  the  water,  where  they  surrendered. 
The  captured  barge  was  afterwards  sold  for  $1,200 
a  part  of  the  proceeds  being  divided  among  the 
captives. 

"  I  must  tell  you  about  another  exploit  in  which 
Captain  Burrows  figured.  One  day  the  Mystic 
sloop  '  Fox, '  commanded  by  Capt.  Jesse  Crary, 
was  captured,  though  captain  and  crew  succeeded 
in  escaping  to  the  shore.  Crary  determined  to 
retake  his  craft,  which  was  as  the  apple  of  his 
eye.  He  accordingly  bought  the  sloop  'Hero,' 


114  In  Olde  Connecticut 

procured  letters  of  marque  from  New  London, 
and  sent  her  out  in  command  of  Captain  Burrows, 
to  retake  the  'Fox.'  The  'Hero'  convoyed  a 
fleet  of  six  vessels  as  far  as  Montauk,  and  soon 
after  sighted  the  'Fox,'  which  ran  off  with  the 
'  Hero '  in  hot  pursuit.  Both  craft  had  been  built 
by  Eldridge  Packer  of  Mystic,  and  were  equal  in 
speed,  but  Burrows  knew  better  how  to  sail  his 
vessel,  and  gained  on  the  'Fox';  indeed,  he  over- 
hauled her  so  quickly  that  he  was  enabled  to  run 
his  bowsprit  into  the  enemy's  mainsail,  and  to 
board  her,  where,  after  a  gallant  fight,  he  gained 
her  colors.  The  two  vessels  received  a  hearty 
greeting  as  they  came  up  to  the  village,  through 
which  the  news  of  the  expedition  had  been  quickly 
spread. " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FISHER'S  ISLAND 

FROM  the  masthead  of  the  old  whaling  barque 
"Nile,"  slowly  rotting  at  New  London's 
docks,  we  saw  one  day,  a  long,  blue  outlined 
island,  eight  or  ten  miles  out  to  sea  and  acting  as 
the  natural  breakwater  of  the  harbor.  Its  corol- 
lary on  the  Long  Island  coast  is  Plum  Island, 
and  between  the  two  the  currents  of  Long  Island 
Sound  rush  with  the  velocity  of  a  mill  race. 
Much  of  the  island  is  unfenced  and  uninhabited; 
and  although  it  has  all  the  elements  of  a  summer 
resort — pleasant  prospects,  cool  breezes,  pictur- 
esque walks  and  drives — it  is  rarely  visited  by 
the  tourist.  Its  history  is  a  notable  one,  and  it 
derives  additional  interest  from  the  fact  that  it 
has  been  for  more  than  two  centuries  the  occasion 
of  much  wrangling  and  contention  as  to  jurisdic- 
tion between  neighboring  States. 

Captain  Adolphus  Block  first  discovered  it,  sail- 
ing up  the  Sound  from  Manhattan  in  his  square- 


116  In  Olde  Connecticut 

bowed,  high-pooped,  native-built  yacht  the  "  Rest- 
less, "  poking  his  inquisitive  nose  into  every  creek 
and  bay  along  the  coast  as  far  east  as  Cape  Cod, 
and  claiming  for  his  Dutch  masters  territory  that 
rightfully  belonged  to  the  English  king,  and  this 
in  1614,  six  years  before  the  "  Mayflower"  landed. 
Block  named  the  island  Fisher's  Island  after  one 
of  his  companions,  it  is  said.  It  was  pretty  cor- 
rectly mapped  by  De  Saet,  an  early  Dutch  geog- 
rapher, who  thus  speaks  of  it  in  his  journal: 

"A  small  island  lies  to  the  southwest  by  south 
from  this  river  (the  Thames)  as  the  coast  runs. 
Near  the  west  end  of  it  a  northwest  by  west  moon 
causes  very  low  water. " 

For  twenty-five  years  after  its  discovery  the 
island  remained  a  wilderness,  known  only  to  the 
Dutch  traders,  who  resorted  thither  to  purchase 
peltries  and  wampum  of  the  Indians.  But  in  1640 
John  Winthrop,  Jr.,  son  of  the  famous  Governor 
Winthrop,  the  founder  of  Boston,  obtained  from 
the  Massachusetts  plantation  a  grant  of  Fisher's 
Island  so  far  as  it  was  theirs  to  grant,  "  reserving 
the  right  of  Connecticut  if  it  should  be  decided 
to  be  theirs. "  Nearly  at  the  same  time,  in  order 
that  there  might  be  no  flaw  in  his  title,  he  applied 
to  the  Connecticut  General  Court  for  a  similar 


Fisher's  Island  117 

grant,  which  was  given  him  in  the  following  words, 
which  are  copied  from  the  records  of  a  General 
Court,  held  at  Hartford,  April  9,  1641: 

"  Upon  Mr.  Winthrop's  motion  to  the  court  for 
Fisher's  Island,  it  is  the  mind  of  the  court  that 
so  far  as  it  hinders  not  the  public  good  of  the 
country,  either  for  fortifying  for  defence,  or  setting 
up  a  trade  for  fishing  or  salt  and  such  like,  he 
shall  have  liberty  to  proceed  therein. " 

But  the  patent  granted  to  the  Duke  of  York 
in  1664  contained  an  insignificant  clause  that  was 
not  only  a  source  of  disquiet  to  Governor  Win- 
throp,  but  has  continued  to  be  a  disturber  of  the 
peace  to  the  present  day.  This  clause  gave  to 
New  York  all  the  islands  lying  in  Long  Island 
Sound,  and  shortly  after  the  patent  was  granted 
Winthrop  applied  to  and  received  from  Governor 
Nicholls  of  New  York  a  third  patent,  declaring 
his  island  to  be  an  "  entire,  enfranchised  township, 
manor,  and  place  of  itself,  in  nowise  subordinate 
or  belonging  unto  or  dependent  upon  any  riding, 
township,  place  or  jurisdiction  whatever. "  Con- 
necticut, however,  did  not  by  Winthrop's  act  re- 
linquish her  claim  to  jurisdiction. 

In  1680  Sir  Edmund  Andros,  the  petty  tyrant 
who  soon  afterward  made  an  ignominious  exit 


118  In  Olde  Connecticut 

from  the  colonies  in  chains,  wrote  to  the  magis- 
trates of  Connecticut,  asserting  his  authority  as 
Governor  of  New  York  over  Fisher's  Island;  to 
this  the  General  Court  of  May  13,  1680,  thus 
stoutly  replied: 

"Whereas  this  court  is  informed  that  Sir  Ed- 
mund Andros  hath  asserted  that  a  certain  island 
called  Fisher's  Island,  belonging  to  heirs  of  John 
Winthrop,  deceased,  is  part  of  his  Royal  High- 
ness's  territories,  which  by  charter  from  his  Maj- 
esty, Charles  II.,  King  of  England,  is  indeed 
granted  unto  this,  his  Majesty's  colony  of  Con- 
necticut, and  under  the  government  (thereof). 
This  colony,  for  preserving  the  just  limits  of  his 
Majesty's  gracious  grant  to  them,  do  hereby  pub- 
licly assert  that  said  island  is  a  part  and  member 
of  this  colony  of  Connecticut  and  under  the  gov- 
ernment thereof,  and  that  they  have  exercised  and 
shall  exercise  government  there  as  occasion  shall 
require,  and  do  hereby  declare  and  protest  against 
the  said  Sir  Edmund  Andros  and  all  other  persons 
their  claims  or  exercise  of  authority  or  government 
on  or  over  said  island.  " 

Here  the  matter  ended  for  the  time  being,  but 
on  each  occasion  that  the  vexed  question  of  the 
boundaries  of  the  two  States  came  up  for  settle- 


Fisher's  Island  119 

ment  the  island  was  always  an  important  factor 
in  the  problem.  Early  in  the  present  year  a  report 
was  presented  to  the  Legislature  of  Connecticut  by 
its  three  commissioners  previously  appointed  to 
treat  with  the  commissioners  of  New  York  on 
this  affair,  which  recommended  the  surrender  of 
the  island  to  New  York.  This  report  was  accepted 
by  the  Legislature,  but  the  act  created  so  much 
dissatisfaction  in  some  parts  of  the  State  that  it 
was  led  to  supplement  its  action  by  reappointing 
the  commissioners  to  treat  further  with  those  of 
New  York,  and  to  devise  some  method  for  its 
acquisition  by  Connecticut.  And  this  is  the  pres- 
ent status  of  the  matter.  It  cannot  but  be  re- 
marked, however,  that  in  the  eastern  part  of  the 
State  the  prospect  of  the  cession  of  the  island  to 
New  York  is  viewed  with  the  greatest  objection. 
Connecticut  claims  it  by  patent,  conquest  and 
purchase,  and  the  general  feeling  is  that  the  island 
is  lawfully  hers.  "  Why,  look  at  it, "  said  a  prom- 
inent gentleman  conversing  on  the  subject  re- 
cently; "the  island  is  scarcely  three  miles  off  our 
coast — just  far  enough  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of 
riparian  law;  it  was  settled  by  our  people;  it  is 
bound  to  us  by  every  tie  of  interest  and  kinship; 
we  have  considered  it  ours  for  more  than  two 


120  In  Olde  Connecticut 

centuries,  and  now  it  is  given  to  a  foreign  State, 
whose  nearest  territory  is  twenty  miles  away  across 
a  stormy  channel,  and  whose  nearest  county  town 
is  thrice  and  its  capital  ten  times  that  distance. 
Connecticut  ought  to  have  it,  of  course  she  ought, 
and  if  she  had  half  the  pluck  and  belligerency  of 
her  younger  days  she  would  have  it,  or  " — a  very 
expressive  bit  of  pantomime  finished  the  sentence. 

There  is  no  way  of  acquiring  the  island  now, 
it  is  said,  except  by  act  of  Congress,  and  it  is 
probable  that  New  York,  having  maintained  a 
death  grip  on  it  for  more  than  two  centuries,  will 
require  a  pretty  liberal  fee  before  agreeing  to  the 
act  of  cession. 

Soon  after  receiving  his  patent  from  Connecti- 
cut, in  the  spring  of  1644,  Governor  Winthrop 
began  his  settlement  of  the  island  by  sending 
hither  several  "  yeomen, "  who  cleared  the  forest 
and  put  up  two  or  three  rude  cottages  for  winter 
quarters.  There  is  no  evidence  of  Winthrop's 
presence  on  the  island  until  the  spring  of  1645, 
when  he  came  with  a  company,  and  the  settle- 
ment of  the  island  was  actively  urged  forward. 
None  of  the  pioneers,  however,  brought  their 
wives  and  families  with  them;  these  remained 
behind  until  the  autumn  of  1646,  or  until  com- 


Fisher's  Island  121 

fortable  dwellings  had  been  built  for  them;  but 
the  colonists  were  not  all  this  time  without  the 
refining  influence  of  female  society.  As  early  as 
April,  1645,  there  is  evidence  of  a  lady's  presence 
among  them.  Roger  Williams,  writing  to  Gov- 
ernor Winthrop  from  "  Narragansett,  22,  4,  45," 
sends  his  "  loving  salutes  to  your  dearest  and  kind 
sister, "  and  other  letters  of  the  Winthrops  of  this 
period  mention  her.  This  brave  lady  was  Mrs. 
Lake,  sister-in-law  to  Governor  Winthrop.  She 
had  been  visiting  Lady  Fenwick  at  Saybrook,  but 
on  Winthrop's  arrival  on  the  island  went  thither 
in  company  with  Mr.  Thomas  Peters,  a  brother 
of  the  Rev.  Hugh  Peters,  a  Puritan  divine,  who 
figures  somewhat  largely  in  the  early  records  of 
the  colony.  She  is  worthy  of  honor  as  being  the 
first  Englishwoman  who  trod  the  soil  of  the  Pe- 
quot  country. 

Governor  Winthrop  remained  on  the  island  un- 
til the  success  of  the  plantation  was  assured,  and 
then,  having  received  a  grant  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames,  removed  thither  and  founded  the  present 
city  of  New  London. 

The  piratical  annals  of  the  island  (if  I  may  be 
allowed  the  expression)  form  a  not  uninteresting 
episode  in  its  history.  For  a  period  of  nearly 


122  In  Olde  Connecticut 

fifty  years— from  1680,  let  us  say,  until  1723,  when 
the  "  Greyhound, "  man-of-war,  broke  the  spirit 
of  the  marauders  by  capturing  a  pirate  crew  of 
twenty-five  men,  and  bringing  them  into  Newport, 
where  they  were  hanged — the  shores  and  islands 
of  the  eastern  part  of  the  Sound  and  of  the  ocean 
as  far  east  as  Cape  Cod  were  havens  of  refuge 
for  all  the  pirates  who  infested  the  American 
coasts.  Hard  pressed,  hither  they  fled  for  safety. 
The  innumerable  islands,  bays,  creeks  and  chan- 
nels of  these  waters  afforded  secure  hiding-places, 
and  their  swift  currents,  shoals,  reefs  and  the 
dense  fogs  that  are  whirled  swiftly  in  from  the 
ocean  were  additional  elements  of  security. 

Every  one  who  has  read  of  Captain  Kidd  will 
remember  Gardiner's  Island  and  Bay  on  the  coast 
of  Long  Island  as  his  favorite  haunt,  and  Fisher's 
Island,  directly  opposite,  was  much  frequented 
by  himself  and  others  of  his  ilk.  Here,  behind 
its  wooded  shores,  in  their  low,  black  schooners 
they  waited  until  a  rich  West  Indiaman,  bound  to 
or  from  New  London,  came  sailing  by,  when  they 
pounced  upon  her,  and  after  rifling  her  of  such 
parts  of  her  cargo  as  pleased  their  fancy,  either 
burned  her  or  allowed  her  to  proceed  on  her 
voyage. 


Fisher's  Island  123 

Many  marvelous  tales  and  legends  of  these  free- 
booters still  linger  about  the  coast,  and  eerie  sights 
still  continue  to  be  seen  by  the  credulous  fisher- 
men. In  the  dead  of  night  ghostly  companies 
land  upon  the  island,  seek  some  secluded  dell, 
and  fall  to  digging  with  spade  and  pickax,  but 
in  the  morning  when  the  fisherman  seeks  the  spot 
no  trace  of  their  labors  is  seen,  and  frequently 
spectral  vessels,  with  low,  black  hulls,  tapering 
masts,  and  everything,  "as  they  sailed,  as  they 
sailed, "  under  Captain  Kidd,  are  seen  flying  down 
the  Sound  amid  the  scud  and  drift  of  the  depart- 
ing easterly  storms.  There  are  persons  who  sneer 
at  these  tales,  and  even  of  the  existence  of  the 
pirates  themselves  as  mere  figments  of  the  imagi- 
nation, and  who  would  rob  Captain  Kidd  of  his 
glory  by  making  him  out  a  mere  thievish  landsman 
who  was  in  the  habit  of  putting  out  from  the 
shore  in  a  whaleboat  occasionally  and  capturing 
such  unfortunate  coasters  as  came  in  his  way. 
But  these  gentlemen  forget  the  large  mass  of  doc- 
umentary evidence  against  their  view  of  the  mat- 
ter, which  if  gathered  together  might  make  some 
interesting  annals  of  piracy.  It  is  doubtful  if  they 
ever  met  with  the  following  paper,  which  I  copy 
from  the  records  of  a  meeting  of  the  Governor 


124  In  Olde  Connecticut 

and  Council  at  Hartford  in  1682,  and  which  is 
the  earliest  authentic  document  that  I  have  seen 
proving  the  existence  of  pirates  on  this  coast, 
although  there  may  be  earlier.  It  is  addressed 
to  the  above-named  body  by  Daniel  Wetherell, 
of  New  London: 

"  NEW  LONDON,  July  25,  1682. 
"Hon'd  Sir:  Thse  may  inform  your  honor  that 
lately  arrived  at  East  hampton  on  Longe  Island 
a  Catch  and  2  small  Sloops  with  about  30  or  40 
privateers  or  rather  pirates;  one  of  the  sloops  laye 
some  time  at  Plum  Island  when  5  of  her  men  left 
her  and  came  hither,  the  rest  went  for  the  Bay 
Colonie,  and  at  Nantasket  met  with  more  of  their 
companions  and  gave  chase  to  a  sloop  of  Mr.  Isaac 
Arnold's  yt  was  bound  to  Virginia  and  took  her 
with  a  thousand  pound  cargo  as  he  informs  me; 
the  Ketch  was  about  130  tunn  which  they  made 
sale  of  at  East  hampton  to  one  Hutchinson  of 
Bostone,  and  with  part  of  the  money  bought  an- 
other sloop  of  Capt.  Hubbard  of  the  same  place; 
which  came  over  to  this  harbor  pretending  to  buy 
some  provisions,  but  bought  not  any  only  a  little 
bread.  I  doe  suppose  they  intend  to  supply  them- 
selves by  piracy.  The  next  day  after  they  were 


Fisher's  Island  125 

gone  I  received  the  enclosed,  which  gives  account 
of  the  third  small  sloop  by  the  Governor  of  Rhode 
Island,  since  which  here  arrived  Mr.  Jonas  Clarke 
bound  to  Southold  to  put  Mr.  Arnold  ashore  there, 
and  from  thence  to  Connecticut,  who  was  chased 
by  that  privateer  that  went  out  of  this  harbor  and 
lyes  still  about  Fisher's  Hand  and  Gardiner's 
Hand;  but  they  were  too  nimble  for  ye  privateers 
and  came  into  this  harbor  where  they  desired 
some  men  and  arms  to  secure  them,  having  as 
they  said  a  very  considerable  cargo  on  board. 
....  Sir,  my  humble  desire  is  that  your  Honor 
with  your  Honored  Councell  would  please  to 
inform  me  what  to  do  in  these  exigincys  for 
they  are  yet  waiting  for  to  take  all  they  can  mas- 
ter, being  well  armed  and  fitted  with  granadas  for 
the  work.  I  earnestly  beg  your  Hon'rs  advice  in 
this  weighty  concern  wherein  men's  lives  and  es- 
tates are  daily  in  hazard,  and  shall  wait  for  an 
answer  from  your  Hon'r  and  Councell.  Mean- 
while shall  rest  your  Hon'rs  humble  servant  to  be 
commanded. 

"DANIEL  WETHERELL. 

"  A  Catch  of  Mr.  Raymand's  coming  from  Vir- 
ginia was  spoken  with  off  Block  Island  eight  days 


126  In  Olde  Connecticut 

since;  is  not  yet  arrived;  we  fear  she  is  taken  by 
some  of  these  Rogues. " 

Lying  in  the  path  of  all  the  commerce  of  the 
Sound,  Fisher's  Island  is  the  dread  of  mariners; 
its  swift  currents,  shoals  and  bars,  sunken  reefs 
and  cruel  ledges  of  rock,  combine  to  render  it  the 
Sable  Island  of  the  Sound.  Race  Point,  on  the 
western  end  of  the  island,  and  Race  Rock,  a  short 
distance  southwest,  marked  by  a  spindle,  have 
been  most  prolific  of  shipwrecks. 

A  list  of  the  disasters  that  have  occurred  here 
would  form  a  long  chapter  of  accidents.  The 
English  ship  "  John  and  Lucy, "  lost  here  in  1671, 
and  the  bark  "  Providence, "  lost  November  28th, 
1679,  were  the  earliest  victims.  The  first  vessel 
sent  out  from  New  London  on  a  whaling  voyage 
was  lost  here  January  13,  1735,  and  in  1775  a 
ship  sent  in  by  Captain  Biddle  as  a  prize  met  here 
the  same  fate.  But  the  most  notable  wreck,  and 
one  no  doubt  vividly  remembered  by  many  read- 
ers, was  that  of  the  steamboat  "  Atlantic, "  which 
went  ashore  on  the  rocks  a  little  east  of  Race 
Point  on  the  night  of  the  27th  of  November,  1846. 
The  "Atlantic"  was  one  of  a  line  of  steamboats 
plying  between  Norwich  and  New  York.  On  the 


Fisher's  Island  127 

27th  of  November  she  was  on  her  passage  to  New 
York,  and  had  just  passed  the  mouth  of  New 
London  Harbor,  when  she  was  disabled  by  the 
breaking  of  a  part  of  her  machinery.  A  heavy 
sea  was  running  at  the  time,  and  the  swift  cur- 
rents carried  her  upon  the  rocks  of  Fisher's  Island 
and  pounded  her  to  pieces  in  a  short  time.  Forty- 
two  persons  perished  in  this  catastrophe.  The 
disaster  occasioned  as  much  horror  and  excitement 
in  the  public  mind  as  the  more  recent  burning  of 
the  "  Narragansett. "  New  London  soon  after- 
ward raised  a  stately  monument  of  granite  to  the 
memory  of  the  lost  (more  particularly  to  the  Wal- 
ton family,  father,  mother  and  three  children,  all 
of  whom  perished  in  the  wreck,  though  their  bod- 
ies were  recovered),  and  Mrs.  Sigourney,  who  was 
then  living  in  Norwich,  and  some  of  whose  friends 
were  among  the  lost,  further  commemorated  the 
event  by  her  beautiful  dirge,  "The  Bell  of  the 
Wreck  " — familiar  to  all  schoolboys  from  its  popu- 
larity with  the  compilers  of  school  readers.  The 
Government  has  since  erected  a  lighthouse  on  one 
of  the  hummocks  or  islets  of  the  Sound  near  the 
scene  of  the  disaster. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   FROGS   OF  WINDHAM 

IT  is  difficult  for  one  who  lingers  in  summer 
days  on  the  beautiful  village  green  of  Wind- 
ham,  where  evidences  of  wealth,  comfort  and 
plenty  confront  him  on  every  side,  to  bring  back 
the  scenes  and  conditions  of  that  far-off  year, 
1754,  which  made  possible  the  curious  incident 
we  are  about  to  describe. 

It  was  the  night  of  June  17,  1754,  that  the 
grewsome,  grotesque  circumstance  occurred.  The 
green  was  as  fresh  and  vivid  in  coloring,  the  elms 
arched  as  gracefully,  the  stream  from  the  pond 
broke  over  its  barriers  and  flowed  away  under  the 
rustic  bridge  as  murmuringly  then  as  now,  but  in 
the  minds  of  the  people  there  was  sad  foreboding 
and  expectation  of  the  momentary  outbreak  of  a 
savage  foe.  It  was  the  eve  of  one  of  the  bloodiest 
of  the  French  and  Indian  wars.  Windham 
County  had  special  reason  for  fearing  vengeance, 
since,  in  acquiring  some  parts  of  her  recent  Sus- 


The  Frogs  of  Windham  129 

quehanna  purchase,  the  Indians  were  known  to 
have  been  aggrieved  and  wronged.  Goodman 
White's  negro  slave  Pomp  was  the  first  to  expe- 
rience the  terrors  of  the  night.  Having  lingered 
until  a  late  hour  beside  a  dusky  Phyllis  in  one  of 
the  outlying  farmhouses,  he  at  length  started  to 
return  to  the  village,  a  Voodoo  charm  about  his 
neck  and  a  horseshoe  in  his  hand  as  a  protection 
against  spooks.  The  night  was  still,  misty,  and 
intensely  dark.  Pomp  went  his  way  whistling, 
his  fears  equally  divided  between  the  insubstan- 
tial ghost  and  the  more  material  Mohawk.  He 
had  reached  the  green,  when  all  at  once  a  dire 
uproar  burst  upon  him.  Roar,  bellow,  gabble, 
shriek,  splash,  gurgle,  were  combined,  and  the 
sounds  came  from  everywhere  at  once — above, 
below,  on  this  side  and  that,  from  field,  and  pond, 
and  forest.  To  say  that  Pomp  fled,  and  shrieked, 
and  prayed,  conveys  no  idea  of  the  celerity  of  his 
flight  nor  the  intensity  of  his  groans  and  supplica- 
tions. But  before  he  could  reach  the  center  of 
the  green,  chamber  windows  were  thrown  open, 
nightcapped  heads  were  thrust  forth,  and  femi- 
nine shrieks  and  the  strong  cries  of  men  added 
to  the  uproar;  many  swooned;  the  stronger  fled 
as  they  were  to  the  village  green,  where  they 


130  In  Olde  Connecticut 

huddled  in  a  little  group,  every  eye  upturned  to 
see  through  the  murky  gloom  the  glory  of  the 
opening  heavens  and  the  awful  visage  of  the  de- 
scending Judge.  In  that  company  not  one  but 
believed  that  the  last  great  day  was  at  hand.  But 
the  levin-stroke  of  judgment  failed  to  come,  and 
soon  the  thought  came  to  the  stronger  minds  that 
the  uproar  was  of  terrestrial  origin,  and  attributa- 
ble to  savage  foes.  Peering  into  the  darkness,  and 
shrinking  from  the  possible  deadly  tomahawk, 
they  waited  and  watched.  At  length  they  heard, 
amid  the  general  babel,  distinct  articulations 
which  gradually  resolved  themselves  into  the 
names  of  two  of  Windham's  most  prominent  citi- 
zens— Colonel  Dyer,  the  agent,  and  Squire  Elder- 
kin,  one  of  the  trustees  of  the  Susquehanna  Com- 
pany. "We'll  have  Colonel  Dyer!  We'll  have 
Colonel  Dyer!  We'll  have  Colonel  Dyer!"  the 
mysterious  voices  declared;  and  "Elderkin  too!" 
"Elderkin  too!"  "Elderkin  too!"  an  equally 
mysterious  chorus  repeated;  not  a  person  but 
trembled  for  the  fate  of  those  two  strong  pillar* 
of  the  commonwealth.  The  words  "  tete,"  "  tete," 
which  followed,  were  construed  as  meaning  that 
the  investing  force  was  disposed  to  treat,  but  as 
nothing  could  be  done  in  the  darkness,  the  af- 


The  Frogs  of  Windham  131 

frighted  people  contented  themselves  with  placing 
a  line  of  sentries  around  the  town,  and  then  with- 
drew to  their  homes. 

So  in  fear,  doubt,  distress,  speculation,  the  fate- 
ful night  wore  away.  Morning  broke,  and  never, 
it  is  safe  to  say,  was  light  welcomed  with  more 
hearty  accord  than  by  the  good  people  of  Wind- 
ham. 

Hours  passed  but  no  savage  army  appeared, 
nor  was  any  cause  of  the  strange  voices  of  the 
night  discoverable,  and  the  occurrence  would,  no 
doubt,  have  been  added  to  the  long  list  of  super- 
natural events  detailed  in  Cotton  Mather's  Won- 
der Book  had  not  Pomp,  watering  his  master's 
horses  at  the  pond  next  morning,  discovered  mul- 
titudes of  frogs  lying  dead  and  blackened  in  the 
water.  Then  it  came  as  a  revelation  to  the  people 
of  Windham  that  an  army  of  frogs,  smitten  with 
some  deadly  epidemic,  or,  perhaps,  attacked  by 
some  invading  army,  had  produced  the  affrighting 
sounds.  The  revulsion  of  feeling,  it  is  said,  was 
great;  the  whole  village  assumed  a  sheepish  air. 
Somehow,  too,  the  story  got  abroad,  and  brought 
a  ripple  of  laughter  to  the  face  of  the  whole  county. 
Everybody  was  disposed  to  regard  the  experience 
of  that  terrible  night  as  a  rich  joke.  Gibes,  puns, 


132  In  Olde  Connecticut 

lampoons,  ditties,  proverbs,  were  rained  on  the 
unfortunate  Windamites.  Even  the  clergymen 
poked  fun,  as  the  following  letter  from  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Stiles  of  Woodstock,  to  his  nephew,  a  law 
student,  abundantly  shows.  It  is  dated  at  Wood- 
stock, July  9,  1754,  and  proceeds : 

"  If  the  late  tragical  tidings  from  Windham  de- 
serve credit,  as  doubtless  they  do,  it  will  then 
concern  the  gentlemen  of  your  Jurispritian  order 
to  be  fortified  against  the  croaks  of  Tauranean 
legions — legions  terrible  as  the  very  wreck  of  mat- 
ter and  the  crash  of  worlds.  Antiquity  relates 
that  the  elephant  fears  the  mouse;  a  herd  trembles 
at  the  crowing  of  a  cock;  but  pray  whence  is  it 
that  the  croaking  of  a  bullfrog  should  so  Belthaz- 
zarize  a  lawyer?  How  Dyerful  the  alarm  made 
by  these  audacious  long-winded  croakers.  I  hope, 
sir,  from  the  Dyerful  reports  from  the  frog  pond 
you  will  gain  some  instruction,  as  well  as  from 
the  reports  of  my  Lord  Coke. " 


CHAPTER  X 

LEBANON,    THE    HOME    OF    JONATHAN    TRTTMBULL 


old  town  well  illustrates  the  historical 
A  importance  of  the  average  rural  New  Eng- 
land village,  once,  maybe,  the  theater  of  inspiring 
events,  but  which  the  shifting  currents  of  trade 
have  left  far  inland,  as  it  were,  to  retain  and  treas- 
ure up  what  it  has  received.  The  atmosphere  of 
the  town  is  as  dreamy  as  that  of  the  Lotos  Isles. 
The  ashes  of  the  past  here  rest  undisturbed. 
Rusty  flintlock  and  dented  sword  blade,  quaint  old 
china,  letters  of  famous  men  breathing  faintly  of 
lavender  and  camphor,  scented  garments  of  an- 
other age,  rest  secure  from  the  collector's  rage  and 
the  golden  shekels  of  the  dealer  in  antiques.  One 
is  surprised  to  find  what  stores  of  history  are  locked 
up  in  the  town.  It  was,  as  remarked,  the  birth- 
place and  home  of  Jonathan  Trumbull,  the  "war 
Governor"  of  Connecticut.  His  "war  office,  " 
the  true  base  of  supplies  for  the  Continental 
armies,  stood  here.  William  Williams,  signer  of 


134  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  Declaration  of  Independence,  lived  in  a  corner 
house  on  the  village  street.  The  Duke  de  Lau- 
zun's  legion  of  the  French  army  went  into  winter 
quarters  here  in  1779,  and  pretty  much  all  the 
famous  men  of  the  Revolution,  at  one  time  and 
another,  have  threaded  its  streets.  Never  was  a 
people  more  steeped  in  tradition  and  historic  lore 
than  the  villagers.  They  imbibe  it  with  their  na- 
tive air  and  impart  it  as  freely  as  it  is  received. 
Governor  Trumbull,  is  of  course,  the  chief  fig- 
ure in  the  village  gossip.  He  was  Governor  of 
Connecticut  from  1770  to  1784,  and  held  his  court 
in  the  village.  He  was  a  Judge  before  he  was 
Governor,  Senator  and  Deputy  before  he  was 
Judge,  and  a  merchant  before  he  was  either.  To 
give  his  mercantile  career  in  detail  would  be  to 
open  up  all  the  methods  and  channels  of  colonial 
commerce.  He  had  a  store  and  warehouse  at 
Haddam,  on  the  Connecticut,  another  at  Norwich, 
and  ships  on  every  sea  where  the  jealous  policy 
of  England  allowed  the  colonies  an  entrance. 
His  most  extensive  trade  was  with  the  West  Indies. 
Connecticut  was  then  purely  agricultural,  and  the 
fields  and  forests  of  Windham  county  produced 
cattle,  horses,  sheep,  grain,  salted  provisions  and 
the  like  in  great  abundance,  all  of  which  found  a 


Lebanon,  the  Home  of  Jonathan  Trumbull  135 

ready  sale  on  the  plantation.  These  Trumbull 
collected  and  sent  in  great  wagon-trains  to  Had- 
dam  or  Norwich,  whence  his  swift  ships  bore 
them  to  the  Indies,  receiving  in  return  sugar,  mo- 
lasses, salt,  rum,  cotton,  wool  and  other  com- 
modities. He  had  also  several  ships  trading  to 
London,  and  sent  hither  in  addition  to  the  crude 
products  of  the  soil,  furs,  skins,  whale-oil,  whale 
fins,  flax,  hemp,  potash,  tar,  turpentine,  fish,  cider 
and  perry.  The  articles  that  he  received  in  return 
were  intended  chiefly  for  the  use  of  his  fair  country- 
women; many  of  their  descendants  of  the  present 
day  I  imagine  would  be  puzzled  to  determine  the 
nature  and  use  of  these  articles  from  a  mere  men- 
tion of  them.  Here  is  a  list  taken  from  one  of 
his  invoices  of  about  1742 :  "  Scarlet  cloaks,  scar- 
let caps,  scarlet  calimancoes,  black  leather  and 
morocco  clogs,  drugget,  rich  black  serges,  rich 
black-spotted  grogatoons,  broad  knee-gartering, 
calicoes,  muslins,  cambrics,  canvas,  kerseys,  lin- 
ens, duffels,  grograms,  hose,  silk  gloves,  crape, 
satin,  lace,  thread,  galloons,  sorted  velvet  masks, 
lawns,  checks,  ribbons,  fans  and  taffetas,  colored 
Brussels  camlets,  women's  stuffed  shoes,  flowered 
silk  shoes  and  clogs,  and  glasses  in  walnut,  shell, 
mahogany  and  japanned  frames. " 


136  In  Olde  Connecticut 

By  1763  our  merchant  had  become  rich.  He 
owned  a  fine  old  roomy  mansion  on  the  village 
main  street,  a  store,  gristmill,  and  several  farms 
in  Lebanon,  wharves  and  warehouses  at  Haddam 
and  Norwich,  and  argosies  enough  upon  the  seas 
to  swell  the  inventory  of  his  estate  to  £18,000. 
It  is  a  striking  instance  of  the  simplicity  of  the 
times  as  well  as  of  his  own  powers  of  body  and 
mind  that  to  the  busy  career  of  the  merchant  he 
added  the  cares  of  such  public  offices  as  Senator 
of  the  colony  and  Judge  of  the  Superior  Court, 
besides  serving  on  several  commissions  of  grave 
importance.  But  still  more  arduous  services  were 
in  store  for  him.  In  1769  the  unanimous  voice 
of  the  freedmen  made  him  Governor  of  the  sturdy 
little  colony,  and  he  was  still  Governor  when  on 
that  April  morning  in  1775  Trail  Bissel,  spurring 
down  from  Watertown,  roused  every  country  ham- 
let with  his  news  of  Lexington.  Never  was  busier 
man  than  Trumbull  for  the  next  few  weeks.  The 
gossips  give  a  graphic  picture  of  him  at  this  time. 
From  morning  till  night  he  was  at  his  store,  now 
turned  into  a  supplies  depot;  hat,  coat  and  vest 
off,  gray  hair  floating  in  the  breeze,  dealing  out 
tents  and  rations  to  the  militia  that  came  pouring 
in,  packing  great  wagons  with  clothing,  provisions 


Lebanon,  the  Home  of  Jonathan  Trumbull  137 

and  powder,  for  the  newly-formed  camps  at  Bos- 
ton, reading  and  answering  dispatches  brought  by 
breathless  messengers  from  captains  of  trainbands 
and  selectmen  of  the  various  towns,  while  every 
now  and  then  a  village  trainband  or  militia  com- 
pany would  march  in  with  fanfare  of  drum  and 
fife,  salute  him  and  be  dismissed  to  the  seat  of 
war  with  well-chosen  words  of  encouragement. 
From  this  time  on  until  the  close  of  the  struggle 
the  little  store  became  the  theater  of  the  intensest 
military  activity.  It  is  as  historic  in  its  way  as 
Faneuil  Hall  or  the  State  House  at  Philadelphia. 
Nearly  all  the  719  meetings  of  the  Connecticut 
Governor  and  Council  during  the  war  were  held 
here.  Here  Washington,  Adams,  Hancock,  Jef- 
ferson, Putnam,  Greene,  Rochambeau  and  others 
met  at  different  times  to  consult  on  the  affairs 
of  the  country.  Here  was  conceived  and  per- 
fected that  admirable  system  of  espionage  and 
detection  which  preserved  Connecticut  from  the 
horrors  of  civil  war.  It  was  the  birthplace,  too, 
of  those  audacious  privateers,  the  "Spy,"  the 
"  Cromwell, "  the  "  Trumbull, "  and  others,  that 
scoured  the  Sound  and  discovered  such  an  affinity 
for  the  fat  storeships  of  the  enemy;  and  from  its 
doors  those  long  supply  trains  and  droves  of  fat 


138  In  Olde  Connecticut 

beeves,  guided  by  Colonel  Champion,  of  happy 
memory,  set  out  for  Valley  Forge  and  Morris- 
town.  This  historic  building  was  a  little  one- 
story  structure,  with  an  old-fashioned  hipped  foof 
and  central  chimney  stack,  and  divided  within 
into  two  apartments — one  filled  with  the  miscel- 
laneous articles  of  a  country  store  and  an  inner 
apartment  used  as  a  counting  room.  It  is  still 
standing,  though  removed  from  its  ancient  site 
and  fitted  up  for  a  tenement. 

But  this  is  drifting  into  serious  history  when 
the  main  object  was  to  present  some  of  the  gos- 
sipy anecdotes  that  are  so  marked  a  feature  of 
the  village  life.  Two  or  three  that  follow  are 
only  for  purposes  of  illustration.  One  day,  in  the 
December  of  1780,  Lauzun's  Legion  of  Hussars 
came  riding  into  the  town.  They  were  a  splendid 
body  of  men,  every  one  above  the  regulation 
standard  of  six  feet,  and  all  mounted  on  horses 
gayly  caparisoned.  The  officers  were  young  "  no- 
bles "  of  France,  and  resplendent  in  the  blue  and 
gold  of  the  French  uniform.  At  their  head  rode 
the  Duke  de  Lauzun,  his  breast  sparkling  with 
orders,  in  appearance  worthy  to  be  the  leader  of 
such  a  legion.  Rochambeau  had  designated  Leba- 
non as  their  winter  quarters,  and  they  were  soon 


Lebanon,  the  Home  of  Jonathan  Trumbull  139 

in  camp — the  men  in  barracks  on  the  village 
green,  the  officers  in  the  homes  of  the  villagers, 
and  Lauzun  in  the  house  of  Colonel  David  Trum- 
bull, the  Governor's  son,  which  stood  directly 
opposite  the  gubernatorial  residence.  They  re- 
mained in  the  village  seven  months.  Once  during 
the  winter  the  dull  routine  of  the  camp  was  broken 
by  the  news  that  General  Washington  was  close 
at  hand.  He  was  then  on  his  way  to  Newport  to 
meet  Rochambeau,  and  came  to  Lebanon  as  the 
guest  of  the  Governor.  Lauzun  ordered  a  grand 
review  of  the  legion  in  his  honor,  on  which  occa- 
sion the  Hussars  displayed  the  perfection  of  mili- 
tary discipline.  They  charged,  wheeled  and  de- 
ployed, broke  ranks  and  reformed,  waved  their 
colors,  bared  their  sabers,  and  fired  their  carbines 
amid  torrents  of  applause  from  the  multitudes 
that  gathered  to  witness  the  grand  affair.  The 
reviewing  party  made  a  pretty  bit  of  color.  There 
were  Washington  and  his  escort  in  full  uniform — 
blue,  buff-lined  coats,  buff  vests,  buff  breeches 
buckled  at  the  knees,  and  long  spurred  boots; 
Lauzun  and  his  staff  in  blue  and  gold,  epauleted, 
their  breasts  glittering  with  jeweled  insignia;  and 
Governor  Trumbull  and  his  suite  in  the  crimson, 
broad-flapped  coats,  embroidered  vests,  and  vel- 


140  In  Olde  Connecticut 

vet  small-clothes  that  formed  the  dress  of  the  ci- 
vilian of  that  period.  It  was  a  grand  affair,  and 
its  memory  will  never  fade  from  the  village.  The 
presence  of  the  mercurial  Frenchmen  gave  to  the 
town  this  winter  the  gayety  of  a  provincial  capi- 
tal. The  young  nobles  were  not  slow  in  discov- 
ering the  attractions  of  the  "fair  Connecticut 
girls"  (as  one  of  their  number  styled  them  in  a 
letter  which  I  should  like  to  print  entire  if  space 
permitted).  Sleigh  rides,  dancing  parties,  tea  par- 
ties, and  dinner  entertainments  kept  the  village 
in  a  whirl  of  excitement  the  winter  through.  Once 
the  officers  rode  down  to  Norwich  to  a  grand  din- 
ner at  General  Jedediah  Huntington's,  and  won 
the  hearts  of  all  the  village  maidens  by  their  splen- 
did uniforms  and  superb  bearing.  Governor 
Trumbull  and  the  neighboring  gentry  and  the 
Duke  gave  many  entertainments.  One  of  the 
grandest  of  these  was  a  dinner  given  by  the  Duke 
in  honor  of  two  distinguished  officers  of  the  French 
army — the  Marquis  de  Chastellux  and  the  Baron 
de  Montesquieu — the  latter  a  grandson  of  the 
famous  sage  of  Brede.  Governor  Trumbull  was, 
of  course,  invited.  When  the  guests  were  all 
seated  at  table — most  of  them  being  gay,  skep- 
tical French  officers — the  Governor  arose  and 


Lebanon,  the  Home  of  Jonathan  Trumbull  141 

pronounced  a  long  and  formal  grace  to  the  no 
little  astonishment  of  his  fellow  guests.  It  was 
the  Puritan  custom,  and  the  good  old  methodical 
chief  magistrate  could  not  depart  from  it.  The 
incident  produced  such  an  impression  on  De  Chas- 
tellux  that  he  recorded  it  in  his  volume  of  travels. 
It  was  not  all  merrymaking,  however.  In  the 
depth  of  winter  news  came  that  the  army  was  suf- 
fering terribly,  especially  for  clothing,  and  so  the 
good  Governor,  as  he  had  done  before,  ordered 
that  contributions  for  their  relief  should  be  taken 
on  Sunday  in  the  various  churches.  On  the  day 
appointed  the  little  village  church  at  Lebanon  was 
crowded,  and  in  their  stiff,  straight  backed  pew 
sat  the  Governor  and  Madam  Trumbull — the  lat- 
ter wearing  a  beautiful  scarlet  cloak,  the  gift,  it  is 
said,  of  Rochambeau  himself.  The  Governor's 
call  was  read,  and  in  the  hush  that  followed 
Madam  Trumbull  arose,  proceeded  to  the  altar, 
and  laid  on  it  the  scarlet  cloak  as  her  contribution 
to  the  cause.  Such  an  example  could  not  but  be 
contagious.  Rings,  brooches,  chains,  purses,  and 
cloaks  from  the  women,  greatcoats,  caps,  mittens, 
stockings,  boots,  money  and  provisions  from  the 
men  were  rained  upon  the  altar,  and  the  poor  sol- 
diers reaped  a  rich  harvest  from  the  generous  act. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MOUNT  TOM,    A   HAUNTED    HILL 

IT  is  not  long  since  the  public  was  kept  for 
weeks  on  the  rack  of  expectation  by  a  moun- 
tain in  the  Carolinas,  yclept  Bald  Mountain, 
which  after  hundreds  of  years  of  unbroken  seren- 
ity suddenly  assumed  a  disturbed  aspect.  Deep 
in  its  bowels  unearthly  meanings  and  mutterings 
were  heard.  Great  bowlders  were  seen  to  start 
and  roll  from  summit  to  base  without  apparent 
cause;  fissures  in  its  sides,  and  tremors  and  shak- 
ings in  the  surrounding  country,  seemed  to  imply 
the  presence  of  volcanic  force,  and  the  tidings 
flashed  over  the  wires  that  the  country  was  about 
to  acquire  a  promising  volcano  excited  the  live- 
liest expectations  in  every  patriotic  breast.  Eager 
gentlemen  of  the  press  at  once  rushed  to  the 
mountain  that  the  public  might  be  presented  with 
its  every  succeeding  phase,  as  well  as  with  a  vivid 
description  of  the  final  catastrophe.  A  railroad 
thither  was  projected,  and  contracts  entered  into 


Mount  Tom,  a  Haunted  Hill  143 

for  building  inns  and  boarding  houses  to  accom- 
modate prospective  sightseers.  So  far,  however, 
the  mountain  has  disappointed  expectations,  and 
if  the  scientific  men  are  correct,  will  continue  to 
do  so. 

But  a  stranger  fact  is  that,  all  unknown  to  the 
public,  there  is  in  Connecticut,  scarcely  three 
hours  by  rail  from  New  York,  a  mountain  that 
far  surpasses  its  Carolinian  rival  in  all  that  makes 
the  latter  famous.  This  mountain  is  known  as 
Mount  Tom,  and  is  in  the  township  of  East  Had- 
dam,  on  the  Connecticut  River,  about  sixteen 
miles  above  Saybrook  Point,  and  not  more  than 
half  that  distance  from  the  city  of  Middletown; 
it  is  easily  accessible  from  Saybrook,  Middletown 
and  Hartford  by  the  Valley  Railroad  and  also  by 
the  steamboats  that  ply  on  the  Connecticut  River. 
By  the  railroad  one  stops  at  Tylerville,  where  a 
primitive  scow  propelled  by  a  two-man  power 
ferries  one  across  the  river  to  Goodspeed's.  The 
steamboats  stop  at  both  Goodspeed's  and  East 
Haddam  landings. 

The  mountain  itself  rises  about  two  and  one- 
half  miles  north  of  the  village  of  East  Haddam, 
and  is  in  shape  something  like  an  elongated  sugar 
loaf;  there  are  outcroppings  of  the  granitic  for- 


144  In  Olde  Connecticut 

mation  peculiar  to  this  region,  on  its  surface,  and 
it  is  covered  with  a  small  growth  of  chestnut,  oak 
and  maple,  whose  dark  green  foliage,  when  I 
visited  it,  was  beginning  to  give  place  to  the  russet, 
crimson  and  gold  of  early  autumn.  The  Salmon 
and  the  Moodus  Rivers  flow  together  at  its  west- 
ern base,  first  compassing  the  mountain  on  two 
sides;  the  average  rise  and  fall  of  the  tide  here 
is  two  feet.  At  the  base  of  the  mountain,  on  one 
side,  is  the  pretty  factory  village  of  Moodus,  vocal 
with  the  hum  of  ten  thousand  spindles;  on  the 
other  is  a  cove  and  dock,  whence  a  little  steam- 
boat accomplishes  weekly  trips  to  New  York; 
north  and  east  stretches  a  cultivated  country  with 
many  a  village  and  hamlet  snugly  nestled  in  its 
bosom. 

Having  visited  the  mountain  I  became  inter- 
ested in  its  history.  Its  Indian  name  was  Mack- 
imoodus,  signifying  "the  place  of  noises,"  and 
the  tribe  of  Indians  who  inhabited  the  region 
about  it  bore  the  same  appellation.  They  were 
remarkable  for  their  piety,  and  sustained  the  re- 
lation of  priests  to  the  other  Indians,  to  whom 
this  mountain  with  its  thunderings  and  quakings 
could  be  no  other  than  the  abode  of  Hobbamocko, 
the  author  of  all  human  calamities,  who  was  to 


Mount  Tom,  a  Haunted  Hill  145 

be  propitiated.  Hence  Pequot,  Mohegan  and 
Narragansett  resorted  thither  with  offerings,  and 
the  powwows  of  the  Mackimoodus  were  kept  of- 
fering almost  daily  sacrifices  to  the  spirit  of  the 
mountain. 

The  first  whites  came  here  in  1670,  and  from 
this  time  minute  accounts  of  the  phenomena  may 
be  gleaned  from  the  early  writers.  A  long  and  de- 
tailed account  is  given  in  the  manuscript  of  the 
Rev.  Charles  Bradley,  for  many  years  pastor  of 
the  church  at  East  Haddam,  which  is  preserved 
in  the  library  of  the  Connecticut  Historical  Society 
at  Hartford.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Hosmer,  the  first 
minister  at  Haddam,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Prince  of 
Boston,  dated  August  13,  1729,  thus  speaks  of 
the  mountain: 

"As  to  the  earthquakes  I  have  something  con- 
siderable and  awful  to  tell  you.  Earthquakes 
have  been  here  (and  nowhere  but  in  this  precinct 
as  can  be  discerned;  that  is,  they  seem  to  have 
their  center,  rise  and  origin  among  us),  as  has 
been  observed,  for  more  than  thirty  years.  I 
have  been  informed  that  in  this  place,  before  the 
English  settlement,  there  were  great  numbers  of 
Indian  inhabitants,  and  that  it  was  a  place  of 
extraordinary  Indian  Pawaws,  or,  in  short,  that 


146  In  Olde  Connecticut 

it  was  a  place  where  the  Indians  drove  a  pro- 
digious trade  at  worshipping  the  devil.  .  .  . 
Now  whether  there  be  anything  diabolical  in  these 
things  I  know  not;  but  this  I  know,  that  God 
Almighty  is  to  be  seen  and  trembled  at,  in  what 
has  been  often  heard  among  us.  Whether  it  be 
fire  or  air  distressed  in  the  subterranean  caverns 
of  the  earth  cannot  be  known;  for  there  is  no 
eruption,  no  explosion  perceptible,  but  by  sounds 
and  tremors  which  sometimes  are  very  fearful  and 
dreadful.  I  have  myself  heard  eight  or  ten  sounds 
successively,  and  imitating  small  arms,  in  the  space 
of  five  minutes.  I  have,  I  suppose,  heard  sev- 
eral hundreds  of  them  within  twenty  years,  some 
more,  some  less  terrible.  Sometimes  we  have 
heard  them  almost  every  day,  and  great  numbers 
of  them  in  the  space  of  a  year.  Oftentimes  I 
have  observed  them  to  be  coming  down  from  the 
north  imitating  slow  thunder,  until  the  sound 
came  near  or  right  under,  and  then  there  seemed 
to  be  a  breaking,  like  the  noise  of  a  cannon  shot, 
or  severe  thunder,  which  shakes  the  houses  and 
all  that  is  in  them;  they  have  in  a  manner  ceased 
since  the  great  earthquake.  As  I  remember,  there 
have  been  but  two  heard  since  that  time  and  both 
but  moderate. " 


Mount  Tom,  a  Haunted  Hill  147 

The  venerable  Doctor  Trumbull,  the  Cotton 
Mather  of  Connecticut,  in  his  search  for  its  an- 
tiquities, gathered  much  concerning  the  Moodus 
noises,  and  printed  it  in  his  delightful  chronicles 
of  the  State,  now  I  believe  entirely  out  of  print; 
he  publishes  the  letter  given  above  and  also  the 
following  account  from  a  resident  of  Haddam: 

"  The  awful  noises  continue  to  the  present  time. 
The  effects  they  produced  are  various  as  the  in- 
termediate degrees  between  the  roar  of  a  cannon 
and  the  noise  of  a  pistol.  The  concussions  of 
the  earth  made  at  the  same  time  are  as  much 
diversified  as  the  sounds  in  the  air.  The  shocks 
they  give  to  a  dwelling  house  are  the  same  as  the 
falling  of  logs  on  the  floor.  The  small  shocks 
produce  no  emotions  of  terror  or  fear  in  the  minds 
of  the  inhabitants.  They  are  spoken  of  as  usual 
occurrences,  and  are  called  Moodus  noises.  But 
when  they  are  so  violent  as  to  be  felt  in  the  ad- 
jacent towns  they  are  called  earthquakes.  During 
my  residence  here,  which  has  been  almost  thirty- 
six  years,  I  have  invariably  observed  after  some 
of  the  most  violent  of  these  shocks  that  an  ac- 
count has  been  published  in  the  newspapers  of  a 
small  shock  of  an  earthquake  at  New  London 
and  Hartford.  Nor  do  I  believe  in  all  that  period 


148  In  Olde  Connecticut 

there  has  been  any  account  published  of  an  earth- 
quake in  Connecticut  which  was  not  far  more 
violent  here  than  in  any  other  place.  By  recur- 
ring to  the  newspapers  you  will  find  that  an  earth- 
quake was  noticed  on  the  18th  of  May,  1791, 
about  10  o'clock  p.  M.  It  was  perceived  as  far 
distant  as  Boston  and  New  York.  A  few  minutes 
after  there  was  another  shock  which  was  percep- 
tible at  the  distance  of  seventy  miles.  Here  at 
that  time  the  concussion  of  the  earth  and  the 
roaring  of  the  atmosphere  were  most  tremendous; 
consternation  and  dread  filled  every  house.  Many 
chimneys  were  untopped,  and  walls  thrown  down. 
It  was  a  night  much  to  be  remembered,  for  be- 
side the  two  shocks  which  were  noticed  at  a  dis- 
tance, during  the  night,  there  was  here  a  succession 
of  shocks  to  the  number  of  twenty,  perhaps  thirty, 
the  effects  of  which,  like  all  others,  decreased  in 
every  direction  in  proportion  to  the  distances. 
The  next  day  stones  of  several  tons  weight  were 
found  removed  from  their  places,  and  apertures 
in  the  earth,  and  fissures  in  immovable  rocks, 
ascertained  the  places  where  the  explosions  were 
made.  Since  that  time  the  noises  and  shocks 
have  been  less  frequent  than  before,  though  not 
a  year  passes  but  some  of  them  are  perceptible. " 


Mount  Tom,  a  Haunted  Hill  149 

Mr.  Barber  in  his  "Historical  Collections" 
says: 

"The  severest  shocks  are  felt  as  far  northeast- 
erly as  Boston,  and  as  far  southwesterly  as  New 
York,  and  there  noticed  as  earthquakes.  In  1816 
and  1817  in  the  night  these  noises  were  more  than 
usually  violent.  A  person  was  on  Mount  Tom 
about  fifteen  years  since,  at  the  time  these  noises 
were  heard.  It  appeared  to  this  person  as  though 
a  stone  or  large  body  fell  underneath  the  ground 
directly  under  his  feet,  and  grated  down  to  a  con- 
siderable distance  in  the  depths  below.  The 
cause  of  these  noises  is  explained  by  some  to  be 
mineral  or  chemical  combinations  exploding  at  a 
depth  of  many  thousand  feet  beneath  the  surface 
of  the  earth.  The  jar  is  similar  to  that  of  ex- 
ploded gunpowder. " 

And  the  "  Connecticut  Gazette  "  of  August  20, 
1790: 

"  Various  have  been  the  conjectures  concerning 
the  cause  of  these  earthquakes,  or  Moodus  noises 
as  they  are  called.  The  following  account  has 
gained  credit  with  many  persons:  It  is  reported 
that  between  twenty  and  thirty  years  ago  a  tran- 
sient person  came  to  this  town  who  called  himself 
Doctor  Steel,  from  Great  Britain,  who  having  had 


150  In  Olde  Connecticut 

information  respecting  these  noises  made  critical 
observation  at  different  times  and  in  different 
places,  till  at  length  he  dug  up  two  pearls  of  great 
value  which  he  called  carbuncles,  near  Salmon 
River,  and  that  he  told  the  people  the  noises  would 
be  discontinued  for  many  years,  as  he  had  taken 
away  their  cause ;  but  as  he  had  discovered  others 
in  miniature,  they  would  be  again  heard  in  proc- 
ess of  time.  The  best  evidence  of  the  authentic- 
ity of  this  story  is  that  it  has  happened  agreeably 
to  his  prophecy.  The  noises  did  cease  for  many 
years,  and  have  again  been  heard  for  two  or  three 
years  past,  and  they  increase.  Three  shocks  have 
been  felt  in  a  short  space,  one  of  which,  according 
to  a  late  paper,  was  felt  at  New  London,  though 
it  was  by  the  account  much  more  considerable  in 
this  and  the  adjacent  towns. " 

An  aged  inhabitant  of  Haddam,  in  answer  to 
my  inquiry  concerning  the  origin  of  the  noises, 
related  this  legend,  and  I  have  given  it  as  a  valu- 
able addition  to  our  stock  of  "folklore."  He 
added  that  Mount  Tom — which  is  the  center  from 
which  these  noises  proceed — had  been  quiet  for  a 
series  of  years.  The  last  violent  outbreak  he  had 
himself  heard.  It  occurred  one  Sunday  evening 
in  1852,  when  the  villagers  had  gathered  for  wor- 


Mount  Tom,  a  Haunted  Hill  151 

ship,  and  I  judge  from  his  description  was  of  the 
same  general  character  as  those  above  described. 

From  the  foregoing  account  it  appears  that  dif- 
ferent persons  have  entertained  different  theories 
respecting  the  origin  of  these  remarkable  natural 
phenomena.  The  simple  Indians  and  the  early 
colonists  ascribed  it  to  the  agency  of  evil  spirits; 
others  attributed  it  to  the  explosive  power  of  sub- 
terranean gases;  the  scientific  theory  would  prob- 
ably differ  from  all  these;  and,  curious  to  know 
what  it  might  be,  I  addressed  a  note  to  Professor 
Rice,  of  Wesleyan  University,  who  is  familiar  with 
the  mountain,  expressing  my  desire,  and  received 
from  him  the  following  reply: 

"I  have  never  made  any  special  investigation 
of  the  geology  of  Moodus.  In  general  the  rocks 
of  that  vicinity  are  of  the  micaceous  metamorphic 
series.  They  would  be  called  granite  in  the  loose 
sense  in  which  that  word  is  colloquially  used. 
More  strictly  they  are  gneiss  and  mica  schist. 
There  are  no  volcanic  rocks  in  the  vicinity.  The 
noises  are  simply  small  earthquakes,  such  as  are 
frequent  in  many  regions  of  greatly  disturbed 
metamorphic  strata,  as  for  instance  in  the  Alps 
and  Pyrenees.  On  page  350  of  the  abridged  edi- 
tion of  Charles  Kingsley's  memoir  is  an  account, 


152  In  Olde  Connecticut 

in  his  inimitably  picturesque  style,  of  one  of  these 
little  earthquakes  which  he  experienced  at  Pau 
in  the  Pyrenees.  In  regions  of  highly  disturbed 
metamorphic  strata  the  rocks  are  apt  to  be  in  a 
state  of  strain  or  tension,  which  will  from  time 
to  time  produce  such  slight  vibratory  movements 
as  are  heard  and  felt  in  the  Moodus  noises.  The 
comprehensive  cause,  both  of  these  and  of  the 
severer  earthquakes,  is  the  contraction  of  a  cooling 
globe." 


CHAPTER  XII 

A   REVOLUTIONARY   NEWGATE* 

TN  East  Granby,  sixteen  miles  northwest  of 
•*•  Hartford,  on  a  bleak,  barren  hillside,  plenti- 
fully sprinkled  with  half  corroded  fragments  of 
copper  ore,  there  stands  a  mass  of  ancient,  grim- 
looking  buildings,  which,  frowning  from  behind 
a  massive  wall  of  stone,  and  displaying  bastion, 
moat  and  watch  tower,  resemble  somewhat  the 
deserted  castles  that  confront  the  traveler  on  every 
hilltop  as  he  journeys  up  or  down  the  Rhine. 
The  moat  is  nearly  filled  now,  and  the  wall  might 
be  scaled  by  an  active  climber,  but  the  visitor  who 
declines  this  exertion  by  following  the  wall  around 
to  the  east,  comes  presently  to  a  gateway,  through 
which  he  may  enter  unchallenged  by  warden  or 
sentry,  when  he  will  find  himself  in  the  yard  of 
what  was  once  the  most  terrible  of  modern  pris- 
ons,— from  1775  to  1783  the  national  prison  of 
the  Continental  Government,  and  from  1790  to 
*  "  Lippincott's  Magazine,"  March,  1881. 


154  In  Olde  Connecticut 

1827  the  State  prison  of  Connecticut.  The  ut- 
most desolation  now  reigns  in  the  inclosure.  The 
owlet  rests  undisturbed  on  the  coping  of  the  wall. 
The  dust  and  mold  of  half  a  century  have  col- 
lected in  the  unused  interiors  of  workshop  and 
chapel.  Bats  cling  in  the  dark  corners,  and  the 
wary  spider  weaves  his  meshes  and  inveigles  the 
silly  fly,  undisturbed  by  the  housewife's  broom  or 
other  signs  of  human  occupancy. 

The  buildings  above  ground,  which  first  attract 
the  attention,  are  the  former  workshops,  hospital, 
chapel  and  guardhouse  of  the  prison.  The  dun- 
geons and  cells — the  prison  proper — were  one  hun- 
dred feet  beneath  the  ground;  and  it  was  this 
feature  that  gave  to  the  old  Newgate  its  unique 
and  horrible  character  and  made  it  the  terror  of 
evildoers  wherever  its  ominous  fame  was  sounded. 
The  entrance  to  these  dungeons  is  by  a  perpen- 
dicular shaft  fifty  feet  deep,  whose  yawning  mouth 
is  still  covered  by  the  guardhouse  standing  in  the 
center  of  the  prison  yard.  To  one  of  its  sides  is 
affixed  a  wooden  ladder  down  which  the  visitor 
must  climb  to  reach  the  dungeons  below.  At  the 
bottom  of  the  shaft  a  flight  of  stone  steps  leads 
down  thirty  or  forty  feet  farther  to  a  central  cham- 
ber, which  contained  the  sleeping  apartments  of 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  155 

the  convicts.  On  one  side  a  narrow  passage  leads 
down  to  a  well  of  pure  water,  above  which  an 
air  shaft  pierces  the  sandstone  for  seventy  feet 
until  it  reaches  the  surface  and  admits  a  few 
cheering  rays  of  light  into  the  dungeon.  Every- 
where else  a  Cimmerian  darkness  prevails.  These 
caverns  may  be  briefly  described  as  comprising 
three  parallel  galleries  in  the  heart  of  the  mount- 
ain, extending  eight  hundred  feet  north  and 
south,  and  connected  by  numberless  cross-passages 
cut  to  facilitate  communication,  while  lateral  gal- 
leries honeycomb  the  mountain  on  either  side. 
The  lowest  depth  reached  is  three  hundred  feet. 
The  galleries  are  cut  through  the  solid  rock,  and 
are  low  and  narrow,  except  in  the  case  of  the 
chamber  above  mentioned.  Their  floors  are  cov- 
ered with  a  soft  adhesive  slime,  and  in  some  places 
with  water,  which  drips  unceasingly  from  the  roof, 
and  the  intense  darkness  and  noxious  gases  which 
prevail  render  their  passage  difficult,  though  not 
impossible.  Besides  the  main  shaft  there  are 
other  means  of  exit  from  the  dungeons, — two  air 
shafts,  both  of  which  open  in  the  prison  yard,  and 
a  level  or  drain  leading  from  the  northeast  gallery 
and  having  its  outlet  without  the  prison  wall. 
The  cavern  was  originally  a  copper  mine,  and 


156  In  Olde  Connecticut 

owed  its  existence  to  the  discovery  here,  about 
1705,  of  a  vein  of  copper  ore,  so  rich  that  Pro- 
fessor Silliman,  after  careful  assay,  found  it  to 
yield  fifteen  per  cent  of  pure  copper,  the  yield  of 
the  Cornish  mines  being  but  eight  per  cent.  It 
is  a  truism  in  mining  lore,  I  believe,  that  all  the 
minerals  known  to  man  may  be  found  in  Con- 
necticut in  just  sufficient  quantities  not  to  pay  for 
working;  but  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth 
century  this  truth  had  not  been  discovered,  and 
the  entire  range  of  sandstone  hills  which  stretch 
from  the  prison  to  East  Rock,  near  New  Haven, 
fifty  miles  distant,  is  seamed  with  shallow  holes 
dug  by  the  prospectors  of  that  age.  One  day 
these  investigators  discovered  this  rich  vein  of 
copper  ore,  and,  as  gold  was  believed  to  be  not 
far  distant,  a  company  to  work  it  was  quickly 
formed.  To  give  the  history  of  the  mining  op- 
erations which  hollowed  out  the  dungeons  of  New- 
gate is  not  germane  to  our  subject;  it  is,  perhaps, 
sufficient  to  say  that  after  being  worked  for  seventy 
years  by  free  labor,  slave  labor,  and  the  imported 
article,  the  enterprise  was  abandoned,  having 
bankrupted  a  score  of  chartered  companies  and 
reduced  as  many  once  affluent  families  to  the  bit- 
terest poverty.  This  was  in  1773.  At  that  time, 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  157 

as  it  happened,  the  colony  of  Connecticut  was 
feeling  the  need  of  greater  prison  accommodations 
than  it  then  possessed.  The  county  jails,  its  only 
penal  institutions,  were  overcrowded  with  prison- 
ers, and  were,  besides,  extremely  insecure.  It 
lacked  the  means  to  build  a  general  or  State's 
prison,  even  if  the  necessary  authority  could  be 
obtained.  In  this  dilemma  some  bright  spirits 
suggested  employing  the  abandoned  copper  mine 
at  Simsbury  (now  East  Granby)  as  a  convict  hold, 
— a  suggestion  received  with  great  favor  by  the 
people  and  adopted  by  the  Legislature  of  1773. 
This  body  passed  an  act  directing  that  male  pris- 
oners not  under  sentence  for  capital  crimes  should 
be  imprisoned  in  the  mines,  and  appropriated  a 
small  sum  for  the  purchase  and  for  making  the 
place  secure;  it  also  appointed  a  keeper,  one 
Captain  John  Viets,  and  named  the  new  prison 
Newgate,  after  the  famous  prison  of  that  name 
in  London.  Another  act  prescribed  the  terms  of 
imprisonment.  Burglary,  robbery  and  counter- 
feiting were  punished,  the  first  offense  by  impris- 
onment not  exceeding  ten  years,  the  second  of- 
fense by  imprisonment  for  life.  The  punishment 
which  might  be  inflicted  on  the  convicts  was  mod- 
erate whipping,  not  exceeding  ten  stripes,  and 


158  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  putting  shackles  and  fetters  upon  them;  the 
keeper  was  also  instructed  to  employ  them  at 
labor  in  the  mines,  but  this  was  not  practised 
long,  as  the  convicts  soon  found  that  the  pick- 
ax and  shovel  used  in  mining  could  be  advan- 
tageously employed  in  digging  a  way  out.  John 
Hinson  was  the  first  prisoner  formally  committed 
to  Newgate;  his  commitment  bore  date  Decem- 
ber 2,  1773.  Before  entering  the  dungeons  he 
had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  gain  the  affections  of 
a  strong-handed  Phyllis  serving  on  one  of  the  neigh- 
boring farms,  and  she,  on  the  eighteenth  night 
of  his  confinement  effected  his  release  by  drawing 
him  up  through  one  of  the  shafts  in  a  bucket  that 
had  been  used  for  hoisting  ore.  Captain  Viets 
then  guarded  an  empty  prison  until  the  26th  of 
the  succeeding  February,  when  three  prisoners 
were  received;  of  these,  one  escaped  on  the  9th 
of  the  following  April,  and  the  two  others  on  the 
23d.  A  prisoner  committed  April  5th  escaped 
on  the  9th,  having  been  confined  four  days.  All 
were  released  by  accomplices  outside,  who  drew 
them  up  through  the  unguarded  air  shafts, — a 
fact  which  led  the  Legislature  to  order  a  more 
thorough  fortification  of  these  approaches. 

But  events  were  hastening  which  were  destined 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  159 

to  bring  about  a  new  order  of  things  and  fill  New- 
gate with  a  far  different  class  of  prisoners.  The 
year  1775  found  the  colonies  engaged  in  their 
memorable  contest  with  the  mother  country. 
At  the  outset  the  patriots  found  themselves  ham- 
pered and  their  cause  endangered  by  the  adhe- 
rents of  the  British  crown  among  them,  men  who 
had  been  their  friends  as  well  as  neighbors,  but 
who  now  became  their  bitterest  foes,  assailing 
them  with  the  rankest  epithets,  denouncing  their 
measures,  spying  into  their  actions  and  transmit- 
ting swift  intelligence  thereof  to  the  British  gen- 
eral, plotting  to  bring  down  on  them  the  enemy's 
armed  hordes,  and,  when  they  came,  piloting 
them  through  the  country.  The  patriot  leaders, 
bold,  resolute,  blessed  with  abundant  nerve-force 
and  an  utter  absence  of  sickly  sentimentality,  took 
prompt  measures  to  repress  these  traitors.  In 
most  of  the  colonies  committees  of  safety  were  at 
once  appointed,  charged  with  a  strict  espionage 
of  all  suspected  persons.  When  sufficient  cause 
appeared,  such  people  were  visited  and  an  avowal 
of  their  sentiments  demanded.  If  only  indiffer- 
ent, the  espionage  was  continued,  but  if  they 
openly  avowed  Tory  sentiments  they  were  forth- 
with apprehended,  tried  for  misdemeanor,  and 


160  In  Olde  Connecticut 

sent  to  prison.  It  was  important  that  such  pris- 
oners should  be  securely  confined.  The  county 
jails  were  quite  the  reverse  of  secure,  and  so  the 
stern  logic  of  necessity  consigned  them  to  the 
gloomy  dungeons  of  Newgate.  It  is  interesting 
to  note  that  the  first  commitment  of  prisoners  of 
this  class  was  made  by  General  Washington.  His 
letter  of  commitment,  addressed  to  the  committee 
of  safety  at  Simsbury,  is  worthy  of  insertion  as  a 
literary  curiosity: 

"CAMBRIDGE,  Dec.  7,  1775. 
"GENTLEMEN, — The  prisoners  which  will  be 
delivered  you  with  this,  having  been  tried  by  a 
court-martial  and  deemed  to  be  such  flagrant  and 
atrocious  villians  that  they  cannot  by  any  means 
be  set  at  large  or  confined  in  any  place  near  this 
camp,  were  sentenced  to  Simsbury,  in  Connecti- 
cut. You  will,  therefore,  be  pleased  to  have  them 
secured  in  your  jail,  or  in  such  other  manner  as 
to  you  shall  seem  necessary,  so  that  they  cannot 
possibly  make  their  escape.  The  charges  of  their 
imprisonment  will  be  at  the  Continental  expense. 
"I  am,  etc., 

"GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

During  the  eight  years  of  war  that  followed, 


A  Revolutionary   Newgate  161 

Newgate  became  widely  celebrated.  Its  name 
frequently  appeared  in  the  public  prints,  and  tales 
of  the  horrors  of  its  dungeons  and  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  its  prisoners  were  freely  narrated  at  cottage 
firesides  and  industriously  circulated  by  the  Tories 
and  their  friends. 

In  1781,  one  Ebenezer  Hathaway  had  gained 
considerable  notoriety  as  captain  of  a  Tory  pri- 
vateer boat  named  the  "  Adventure.  "  With  this 
boat  and  his  crew  of  eight  men  he  would  steal  out 
from  his  rendezvous  on  the  Long  Island  coast, 
make  a  descent  on  some  defenseless  town  in  Con- 
necticut, plunder  and  burn  at  pleasure,  and  then 
return  at  leisure  to  his  place  of  retreat.  Of 
course  reprisals  were  made  by  the  other  party, 
and  thus  originated  the  famous  "  whaleboat  war- 
fare,"  waged  with  so  much  animosity  by  the  pa- 
triots of  Connecticut  and  the  Tories  of  Long  Is- 
land. In  one  of  these  reprisals  Hathaway  and 
his  crew  were  taken  and  committed  to  Hartford 
jail  for  trial.  A  Tory  newspaper  furnishes  the 
sequel:  "After  being  tried  before  the  Superior 
Court,  they  were  ordered  to  Newgate  Gaol,  or 
rather  to  that  inquisition,  Simsbury  Mines,  which, 
from  the  following  description,  exceeds  anything 
among  their  allies  in  France  or  Spain : 
K 


162  In  Olde  Connecticut 

"These  poor  unfortunate  victims  relate  that 
they  were  taken  from  Hartford  Gaol  and  marched 
under  a  strong  guard  to  Simsbury  Mines,  distant 
about  seventy-four  miles.  In  approaching  this 
horrid  dungeon  they  were  first  conducted  through 
the  apartments  of  the  guards,  and  then  through  a 
trapdoor  downstairs  into  another  upon  the  same 
floor  with  the  kitchen,  which  was  divided  from  it 
by  a  very  strong  partition  door. 

"  In  the  corner  of  this  outer  room  and  near  the 
foot  of  the  stairs  opened  another  large  trapdoor, 
covered  with  bars  and  bolts  of  iron,  which  was 
hoisted  up  by  two  guards  by  means  of  a  tackle, 
whilst  the  hinges  grated  as  they  turned  upon  their 
hooks,  and  opened  the  jaws  and  mouth  of  what 
they  call  Hell,  into  which  they  descended  by 
means  of  a  ladder  about  six  feet  more,  which  led 
to  a  large  iron  grate  or  hatchway  locked  down 
over  a  shaft  of  about  three  feet  diameter,  sunk 
through  the  solid  rock,  and  which  they  were  told 
led  to  the  bottomless  pit.  Finding  it  not  possible 
to  evade  this  hard,  cruel  fate,  they  bade  adieu  to 
the  world,  and  descended  the  ladder  about  thirty- 
eight  feet  more,  when  they  came  to  what  is  called 
the  landing;  then  marching  shelf  by  shelf,  till,  de- 
scending about  thirty  or  forty  feet  more,  they 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  163 

came  to  a  platform  of  boards  laid  underfoot,  with 
a  few  more  put  overhead  to  carry  off  the  water, 
which  keeps  continually  dropping.  'Here,'  say 
they, '  we  found  the  inhabitants  of  this  woful  man- 
sion, who  were  exceeding  anxious  to  know  what 
was  going  on  above. ' ' ' 

The  year  previous,  a  band  of  Tory  marauders 
from  Long  Island  bent  on  a  predatory  excursion 
had  landed  near  New  Haven  and  marched  to 
Bethany,  a  town  ten  miles  northwest, — their  ob- 
jective point  being  the  house  of  Captain  Ebenezer 
Dayton,  a  gentleman  formerly  residing  on  Long 
Island,  but  whose  Whig  sentiments  had  forced 
him  to  fly  from  the  wrath  of  the  Loyalists.  This 
house  they  broke  open  and  pillaged  from  top  to 
bottom,  the  master  being  absent,  and  then  re- 
turned to  their  boats ;  but  before  they  could  reach 
the  British  lines  they  were  captured  by  two  whale- 
boat  crews  from  Derby,  and  brought  back  to  Con- 
necticut for  trial.  Graham,  the  leader,  proved  to 
be  a  deserter  from  the  Continental  Army,  and 
was  shot;  the  others  were  sentenced  to  Newgate. 
Not  all  the  prisoners  in  these  dungeons  at  this 
time,  however,  were  of  this  character.  There 
were  men  of  learning,  wit  and  talent  among  them, 
— physicians,  lawyers,  and  one  clergyman,  the 


164  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Rev.  Simeon  Baxter,  who  for  his  "exceedingly 
bitter  and  seditious"  language  against  the  Con- 
gress was  sentenced  to  Newgate.  It  was  his  cus- 
tom every  Sabbath  to  preach  to  his  fellow-spirits 
in  prison,  and  as  he  possessed  a  certain  rude  elo- 
quence, and  some  logic,  and  so  constructed  his 
discourses  as  to  prove  to  his  audience  that  all 
their  persecutors  "  would  swing  before  John  Han- 
cock should  be  king,"  he  was  listened  to  with 
the  greatest  attention  and  respect.  One  of  these 
sermons  was  published  in  London  shortly  after 
his  release.  It  is  entitled  "Tyrannicide  proved 
lawful  from  the  Practice  and  Writings  of  Jews, 
Heathens,  and  Christians.  A  Discourse  delivered 
in  the  Mines  at  Symsbury,  in  the  Colony  of  Con- 
necticut, to  the  Loyalists  confined  by  Order  of 
the  Congress,  on  September  19,  1781,  by  Simeon 
Baxter,  a  Licentiate  in  Divinity  and  Voluntary 
Chaplain  to  those  Prisoners  in  the  Apartment 
called  Orcus. " 

Among  prisoners  of  this  character,  strong,  in- 
genious, desperate,  and  believing  themselves  un- 
justly imprisoned,  the  hope  of  escape  was  fondly 
cherished,  and  the  attempt  eagerly  made  when- 
ever opportunity  offered.  Next  to  the  air  shafts, 
the  level  or  drain  leading  from  the  northeast  gal- 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  165 

lery  was  the  most  common  means  of  escape.  The 
first  to  make  use  of  this  narrow  road  to  freedom 
was  Henry  Wooster,  one  of  those  engaged  in  the 
pillaging  of  Dayton's  house.  The  entrance  to  the 
drain  had  been  closed  by  a  solid  wall  of  masonry, 
in  which,  however,  a  grated  aperture  was  left  for 
the  passage  of  the  water.  Arming  himself  with 
a  nail  rod  taken  while  at  his  duties  in  the  nail 
shop,  Wooster  attacked  the  masonry,  and  picked 
it  out  bit  by  bit  until  the  iron  bars  could  be 
wrenched  from  their  position.  He  then  entered 
the  level,  and,  lying  at  length  within  its  slimy 
confines,  worked  himself  along,  enlarging  the  pas- 
sage with  his  nail  rod  in  places  where  it  did  not 
afford  room  for  his  shoulders.  Toiling  in  this 
way  for  several  weeks,  he  had  nearly  gained  the 
outlet  when  he  found  one  morning,  as  he  was 
returning  feet  foremost,  that  a  large  stone  had 
fallen  from  the  roof  of  the  drain  and  completely 
barred  the  passage.  For  a  time  he  was  almost 
in  despair:  he  could  not  turn  to  reach  the  stone, 
and  to  escape  by  the  outlet  was  to  give  himself 
up  to  the  guards,  as  day  had  already  dawned. 
At  length,  by  a  desperate  effort,  he  succeeded  in 
pushing  the  stone  along  with  his  feet  till  it  sank 
into  a  hollow ;  he  then  passed  over  it  and  reentered 


166  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  cavern,  bruised  and  bloody,  just  as  the  day- 
break bell  rang  to  call  the  prisoners  to  their  daily 
labor.  A  few  nights  afterward,  Wooster  and 
several  of  his  fellow  captives  who  were  able  to 
remove  their  fetters  passed  through  the  drain  and 
escaped  to  the  forests. 

But  a  much  more  desperate  outbreak  than  this 
is  recorded  in  the  prison  annals  as  occurring  on 
the  17th  of  May,  1781.  At  that  time  there  were 
thirty  desperate  men  confined  in  the  vaults.  The 
guard  in  charge  of  them  consisted  of  a  lieutenant, 
sergeant,  corporal  and  twenty-four  privates,  sev- 
eral of  the  latter  mere  boys,  and  all  lax  in  their 
ideas  of  discipline.  The  officers  were  armed  with 
swords  and  pistols,  the  privates  with  muskets  and 
fixed  bayonets.  On  the  night  of  the  day  in  ques- 
tion, after  the  prisoners  had  been  fastened  in  the 
dungeons,  the  wife  of  a  convict  named  Young 
appeared  and  desired  to  see  him,  and,  as  there 
was  nothing  suspicious  in  this,  the  request  was 
readily  granted.  Two  officers  lifted  the  trap,  the 
rest  of  the  guard  being  asleep,  but  no  sooner  was 
the  heavy  door  unfastened  than  it  was  thrust  vio- 
lently up  from  beneath,  and  the  whole  body  of 
prisoners  rushed  into  the  room.  The  two  officers 
were  at  once  struck  down,  the  arms  of  the  pri- 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  167 

vates  seized,  and,  after  a  sharp  tussle,  the  insur- 
gents became  masters  of  the  prison.  In  the  melee 
six  of  the  guard  were  wounded, — one  mortally, — 
and  a  like  number  of  the  assailants.  After  this 
exploit  the  victors  proceeded  to  close  the  hatches 
on  their  former  guards  and  fled  to  the  forests, 
and,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  succeeded  in 
escaping.  This  wholesale  delivery  produced  the 
wildest  excitement,  and  expressions  not  very  com- 
plimentary to  the  management  of  the  prison  or 
to  the  honesty  of  the  guards  were  freely  bandied 
about.  The  Legislature,  then  in  session,  ordered 
an  investigation,  and  a  committee  was  appointed 
to  repair  to  Newgate  and  inquire  into  the  facts. 
The  report  of  this  committee  affords  specimens  of 
grim  humor  worth  extracting: 

"  Jacob  Southwell  was  awakened  by  the  tumult, 
took  a  gun  and  ran  out  of  the  guardhouse,  but 
durst  not  go  back  for  fear  they  would  hurt  him. 
(N.  B. — A  young  man  more  fit  to  carry  fish  to 
market  than  to  keep  guard  at  Newgate.)  Nathan 
Phelps  who  was  also  asleep,  waked,  but  could  do 
nothing,  the  prisoners  having  possession  of  the 
guardhouse  (a  small  lad,  just  fit  to  drive  plough 
with  a  very  gentle  team).  He  went  to  Mr.  Viets's 
and  stayed  till  morning  (poor  boy!).  Abigail,  the 


168  In  Olde  Connecticut 

wife  of  John  Young,  alias  Mattick,  says  that  the 
first  night  she  came  to  prison  she  gave  her  hus- 
band fifty -two  silver  dollars;  her  husband  told  her 
after  he  came  out  that  he  had  given  Sergeant  Lilly 
fifty  of  them  in  order  that  he  may  suffer  the  pris- 
oners to  escape;  that  he  told  her  the  sergeant  pur- 
posely left  the  door  of  the  south  jail  unlocked; 
that  Sergeant  Lilly  was  not  hurt;  that  she  bor- 
rowed the  money  of  a  peddler;  that  she  heard 
Lilly  say  it  was  a  great  pity  such  likely  men  should 
live  and  die  in  that  place. " 

A  new  commandant  and  guards  for  the  prison 
were  appointed,  and  after  a  time  the  excitement 
subsided. 

In  1790,  Connecticut,  "  free  and  independent, " 
made  Newgate  the  State  prison  of  the  Common- 
wealth; and  as  it  was  perhaps  the  first  penal  in- 
stitution of  this  character  in  the  United  States, 
and  was  withal  somewhat  peculiar  in  its  construc- 
tion and  management,  the  details  of  its  internal 
economy  from  this  time  forward  must  be  inter- 
esting and  valuable.  Fortunately,  from  the  nar- 
ratives of  travelers,  the  records  of  the  State,  and 
the  researches  of  the  local  historian,  these  details 
have  been  preserved  in  a  very  satisfactory  man- 
ner. The  traveler  Kendall,  who  visited  the  prison 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  169 

in  1807,  when  it  was  at  its  best  estate,  in  his 
"Travels  in  the  Northern  Parts  of  the  United 
States,"  gives  a  vivid  sketch  of  the  daily  routine 
of  the  prison  as  then  conducted.  He  says,  "On 
being  admitted  into  the  yard,  I  found  a  sentry 
under  arms  within  the  gate  and  eight  soldiers 
drawn  up  in  line  in  front  of  the  gaoler's  house. 
A  bell  summoning  the  prisoners  to  work  had  al- 
ready rung,  and  in  a  few  moments  they  began 
to  make  their  appearance.  They  came  in  irreg- 
ular numbers,  sometimes  two  or  three  together, 
and  sometimes  a  single  one  alone;  but  whenever 
one  or  more  were  about  to  cross  the  yard  to  the 
smithery,  the  soldiers  were  ordered  to  present  in 
readiness  to  fire.  The  prisoners  were  heavily 
ironed,  and  secured  both  by  handcuffs  and  fetters, 
and,  being  therefore  unable  to  walk,  could  only 
make  their  way  by  a  sort  of  jump  or  hop.  On 
entering  the  smithery  some  went  to  the  sides  of 
the  forges,  where  collars  dependent  by  iron  chains 
from  the  roofs  were  fastened  round  their  necks, 
and  others  were  chained  in  pairs  to  wheelbarrows. 
The  number  of  prisoners  was  about  forty;  and 
when  they  were  all  disposed  of  in  the  manner  de- 
scribed, sentries  were  placed  within  the  buildings 
which  contained  them.  This  establishment,  as  I 


170  In  Olde  Connecticut 

have  said,  is  designed  to  be,  from  all  its  arrange- 
ments, an  object  of  terror,  and  everything  is  ac- 
cordingly contrived  to  make  the  life  endured  in 
it  as  burdensome  and  miserable  as  possible.  .  .  . 

"The  trapdoor  being  lifted  up,  I  went  down 
an  iron  ladder  perpendicularly  fixed  to  the  depth 
of  about  fifty  feet.  From  the  foot  of  the  ladder 
a  rough,  narrow,  and  low  passage  descends  still 
deeper  till  it  terminates  at  a  well  of  clear  water, 
over  which  is  an  air  shaft  seventy  feet  in  height, 
and  guarded  at  its  mouth,  which  is  within  the 
gaol  yard,  by  a  hatch  of  iron.  The  cells  are 
near  the  well,  but  at  different  depths  beneath  the 
surface,  none  perhaps  exceeding  sixty  feet.  They 
are  small,  rugged,  and  accommodated  with  wooden 
berths  and  some  straw.  The  straw  was  wet,  and 
there  was  much  humidity  in  every  part  of  this 
obscure  region;  but  I  was  assured  I  ought  to 
attribute  this  only  to  the  remarkable  wetness  of 
the  season;  that  the  cells  were  in  general  dry, 
and  that  they  were  not  found  unfavorable  to  the 
health  of  the  prisoners. 

"  Into  these  cells  the  prisoners  are  dismissed  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  every  day  without 
exception,  and  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  They 
descend  to  their  fetters  and  handcuffs,  and  at 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  171 

about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  they  ascend 
the  iron  ladder,  climbing  it  as  well  as  they  can 
by  the  aid  of  their  fettered  limbs.  It  is  to  be 
observed  that  no  women  are  confined  here,  the 
law  providing  that  female  convicts,  guilty  of 
crimes  for  which  men  are  confined  in  Newgate 
prison,  are  to  be  sent  to  the  county  gaols.  .  .  . 
"  Going  again  into  the  workshop  or  smithery, 
I  found  the  attendants  of  the  prison  delivering 
pickled  pork  for  the  dinner  of  the  prisoners. 
Pieces  were  given  separately  to  the  parties  at  each 
forge.  They  were  thrown  upon  the  floor,  and 
left  to  be  washed  and  boiled  in  the  water  used 
for  cooling  the  iron  wrought  at  the  forges.  Meat 
had  been  distributed  in  like  manner  for  break- 
fast. The  food  of  the  prison  is  regulated  for  each 
day  in  the  week,  and  consists  in  an  alternation 
of  pork,  beef  and  peas,  with  which  last  no  flesh- 
meat  is  allowed.  Besides  the  caverns  or  excava- 
tions below,  and  the  gaoler's  house  above,  there 
are  other  apartments  prepared  for  the  prisoners, 
and  particularly  a  hospital,  of  which  the  neatness 
and  airiness  afford  a  strong  contrast  to  the  other 
parts  of  the  prison.  It  was  also  satisfactory 
to  find  that  in  this  hospital  there  were  no 
sick. " 


172  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Supplementary  to  Mr.  Kendall's  narrative,  the 
following  sketch  of  the  daily  routine  at  Newgate, 
written  by  a  gentleman  who  was  a  frequent  visitor 
at  the  prison  in  his  boyhood  and  familiar  with 
its  management,  will  be  read  with  interest :  "  The 
hatches  were  opened  and  the  prisoners  called  out 
of  their  dungeons  each  morning  at  daylight,  and 
three  were  ordered  to  'heave  up'  at  a  time;  a 
guard  followed  the  three  to  their  shop,  placing 
them  at  their  work,  and  chaining  those  to  the 
block  whose  tempers  were  thought  to  require  it. 
All  were  brought  out  likewise  in  squads  of  three, 
and  each  followed  by  a  guard.  To  those  who 
never  saw  the  operation  their  appearance  cannot 
be  truly  conceived  as  they  vaulted  forth  from  the 
dungeon  in  their  blackness,  their  chains  clanking 
at  every  step,  and  their  eyes  flashing  fire  upon  the 
bystanders.  It  resembled,  perhaps,  more  than 
anything,  the  belching  from  the  bottomless  pit. 
After  a  while  their  rations  for  the  day  were  carried 
to  them  in  their  several  shops.  Each  one  divided 
his  own  rations  to  suit  himself.  Some  cooked 
over  their  own  mess  in  a  small  kettle  at  their 
leisure,  while  others,  disregarding  ceremonies, 
seized  their  allowance,  and  ate  it  on  an  anvil 
or  a  block.  .  .  .  They  were  allowed  to  swap 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  173 

rations,  exchange  commodities,  barter,  buy  and 
sell  at  their  pleasure.  Some  would  swap  their 
rations  for  cider,  and  often  would  get  so  tipsy 
that  they  could  not  work.  During  the  day  the 
guard  was  changed  once  in  two  hours  at  the 
sound  of  a  horn,  and  in  the  night  a  guard 
entered  the  caverns  every  hour  and  a  half 
and  counted  the  prisoners.  The  punishments 
inflicted  for  offenses  and  neglect  of  duty  were 
severe  flogging,  confinement  in  stocks  in  the  dun- 
geon, being  fed  on  bread  and  water  during  the 
time,  double  or  treble  sets  of  irons,  hanging 
by  the  heels,  etc., — all  tending  to  inflame  their 
revenge  and  hatred;  and  seldom  were  appeals 
made  to  their  reason  or  better  feelings. " 

No  books  or  reading  matter  of  any  description 
were  furnished  the  prisoners,  and  there  seems  to 
have  been  no  recognition  of  them  as  men  for 
whom  reformation  was  possible  or  desirable,  ex- 
cept the  provision  made  for  their  religious  instruc- 
tion on  Sunday.  A  few  years  after  the  prison  was 
established  by  legislative  act,  the  pastor  of  the 
society  at  East  Granby  became  chaplain  of  the 
institution.  One  service  on  the  Sabbath  was 
deemed  sufficient,  and  this  was  held  at  first  in  the 
nail  shop,  some  of  the  more  refractory  of  the  au- 


174  In  Olde  Connecticut 

dience  being  chained  to  the  nail  blocks  to  insure 
peace  and  quietness  in  the  assembly.  Later,  a 
chapel  was  built,  in  which  the  townspeople  and 
prisoners  worshipped  together. 

Some  interesting  details  of  the  economy  of  the 
prison  are  given  in  a  report  of  its  overseers,  made 
to  the  Legislature  in  1810.  We  make  room  for  a 
few  extracts: 

"The  winter  clothing  of  the  prisoners  consists 
of  two  check-flannel  shirts,  a  short  coat,  one  pair 
of  pants  of  home-made  cloth,  two  pairs  of  woolen 
stockings,  and  one  pair  of  shoes.  Their  summer 
clothing  consists  of  a  change  of  towcloth  frocks 
and  trousers,  with  stockings  and  shoes.  Their 
shirts,  summer  frocks,  trousers,  and  stockings  are 
shifted  and  washed  once  a  week,  and  are  boiled 
in  strong  lye  made  of  ashes,  which  effectually  de- 
stroys the  vermin. 

"The  prisoners  are  lodged  in  huts  or  cabins 
made  in  the  cavern.  They  are  built  on  a  floor 
elevated  three  feet  above  the  ground,  and  are 
ranged  on  each  side  of  a  space  which  lies  be- 
tween them.  The  roofs  and  outer  sides  of  these 
cabins  are  made  close  and  tight  with  boards.  The 
berths  in  these  cabins  are  plentifully  supplied 
with  blankets,  and  generally  with  straw  when  the 


A  Revolutionary  Newgate  175 

prisoners  wish  it.  The  straw  is  shifted  as  often 
as  necessary. 

"The  prisoners  are  secured  by  iron  fetters 
around  their  ankles.  While  at  work,  a  chain 
fastened  to  a  block  is  locked  into  these  fetters 
or  round  the  ankle.  For  the  more  daring  and 
refractory,  heavier  chains  are  occasionally  used. 

"No  allowance  is  made  to  those  prisoners  who 
do  more  than  their  daily  task.  Formerly  an  al- 
lowance of  one  penny  on  each  pound  of  nails  over 
the  daily  task  was  allowed.  But  this  practice  for 
several  years  past  has  been  discontinued.  It  was 
found  this  allowance  induced  them  to  slight 
their  work  and  steal  nails  from  each  other  at  the 
forges. " 

The  sanitary  effect  of  the  dungeons  on  the 
prisoners,  briefly  touched  on  by  the  overseers,  is 
worthy  of  further  remark.  Other  observers  have 
noted  the  fact,  recorded  by  them,  that  the  con- 
finement was  not  detrimental  to  health;  indeed, 
some  of  the  prisoners  reached  extreme  old  age 
while  incarcerated  there.  This  circumstance  was 
attributed  by  some  to  a  medicinal  quality  in  the 
mineral  rock  which  forms  the  wall  of  the  cavern; 
others  supposed  it  to  be  due  to  the  equable  tem- 
perature. In  1811  experiments  were  made  to 


176  In  Olde  Connecticut 

ascertain  the  mean  temperature  of  the  mines, 
when  it  was  discovered  that  the  mercury  ranged 
eight  degrees  lower  there  in  the  hottest  days  of 
summer  than  in  the  coldest  days  of  winter,  and 
that  the  mean  temperature  was  forty -eight  de- 
grees. 

The  overseers  in  1810  reported  the  number  of 
convicts  as  being  forty-six.  Sixteen  years  later 
the  number  had  increased  to  one  hundred  and 
twenty-seven,  imposing  an  annual  tax  on  the  State 
for  their  maintenance  of  seven  thousand  dollars. 
The  cost  and  impossibility  of  accommodating  and 
securing  so  many  in  the  cavern  led  the  State  au- 
thorities to  provide  for  the  erection  of  another 
prison  at  Wethersfield.  This  was  finished,  and 
the  prisoners  removed  thither,  in  1827,  since  which 
time  the  old  Newgate  has  been  left  to  the  ravages 
of  decay. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CONNECTICUT'S  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE 

"JV/TANY  students  of  American  history  never 
•^  -*-  heard  of — much  less  read — the  Connecticut 
Declaration  of  Independence.  This  instrument, 
which  has  not  become  immortal,  but  deserves  to 
be  so,  was  in  the  form  of  a  Proclamation  issued  by 
Governor  Jonathan  Trumbull,  "with  the  advice 
of  the  Council  and  at  the  desire  of  the  Representa- 
tives in  General  Court  assembled, "  on  June  18, 
1776,  sixteen  days  before  the  better  known  Dec- 
laration of  Philadelphia  was  adopted.  Governor 
Trumbull's  paper  so  nearly  covered  the  ground 
taken  by  the  Philadelphia  instrument,  that  when 
the  latter  arrived  in  Hartford,  on  July  12,  the 
Governor  and  Council  declined  to  publish  it  for 
the  reason  that  it  would  be  supererogatory,  and 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  for  this  reason 
never  was  published  in  Connecticut.  Dr.  Charles 
J.  Hoadley,  State  Librarian  of  Connecticut,  in  his 
fifteenth  and  last  volume  of  the  "  Colonial  Records 


178  In  Olde  Connecticut 

of  Connecticut, "  published  the  paper  entire  from 
a  contemporary  broadside.     It  is  as  follows: 

"  By  the   Honorable 
"JONATHAN  TRUMBULL,  Esq., 
"  Governor  and  Commander-in-chief  of  the  Eng- 
lish Colony  of  Connecticut  in  New  England. 

"A   PROCLAMATION 

"  The  Race  of  Mankind  was  made  in  a  State  of 
Innocence  and  Freedom  subjected  only  to  the 
Laws  of  God  the  Creator,  and  through  his  rich 
Goodness,  designed  for  virtuous  liberty  and  Hap- 
piness, here  and  for  ever;  and  when  moral  Evil 
was  introduced  into  the  World,  and  Man  had 
corrupted  his  Ways  before  God,  Vice  and  Iniquity 
came  in  like  a  Flood  and  Mankind  became  ex- 
posed, and  a  prey  to  the  Violence,  Injustice  and 
Oppression  of  one  another.  God  in  great  Mercy 
inclined  his  People  to  form  themselves  into  So- 
ciety, and  to  set  up  and  establish  civil  Government 
for  the  Protection  and  security  of  their  Lives  and 
Properties  from  the  Invasion  of  wicked  men.  But 
through  Pride  and  ambition  the  Kings  and 
Princes  of  the  World  appointed  by  the  People  the 
Guardians  of  their  Lives  and  Liberties,  early  and 
almost  universally  degenerated  into  Tyrants,  and 


Connecticut's  Declaration  of  Independence  179 

by  Fraud  or  Force  betrayed  and  wrested  out  of 
their  hands  the  very  Rights  and  Properties  they 
were  appointed  to  protect  and  defend.  But  a 
small  part  of  the  Human  Race  maintained  and 
enjoyed  any  tolerable  Degree  of  Freedom.  Among 
those  happy  few,  the  nation  of  Great  Britain  was 
distinguished  by  a  Constitution  of  Government 
wisely  framed  and  modelled  to  support  the  Dig- 
nity and  Power  of  the  Prince,  for  the  protection 
of  the  Rights  of  the  People,  and  under  which  that 
Country  in  long  succession  enjoyed  great  Tran- 
quillity and  Peace,  though  not  unattended  with 
repeated  and  powerful  efforts,  by  many  of  its 
haughty  Kings,  to  destroy  the  Constitutional 
Rights  of  the  People,  and  establish  arbitrary 
Power  and  Dominion.  In  one  of  those  convul- 
sive struggles  our  Forefathers,  having  suffered  in 
that  their  native  Country  great  and  variety  of 
Injustice  and  Oppression,  left  their  dear  Connec- 
tions and  Enjoyments,  and  fled  to  this  then  in- 
hospitable land  to  secure  a  lasting  retreat  from 
civil  and  religious  Tyranny. 

"The  God  of  Heaven  favored  and  prospered 
this  Undertaking — made  room  for  their  settle- 
ment— increased  and  multiplied  them  to  a  very 
numerous  People  and  inclined  succeeding  Kings 


180  In  Olde  Connecticut 

to  indulge  them  and  their  children  for  many  years 
the  unmolested  Enjoyment  of  the  Freedom  and 
Liberty  they  fled  to  inherit.  But  an  unnatural 
King  has  risen  up — violated  his  sacred  Obliga- 
tions and  by  the  Advice  of  Evil  Counsellors  at- 
tempted to  wrest  from  us,  their  children,  the  Sacred 
Rights  we  justly  claim  and  which  have  been  rati- 
fied and  established  by  solemn  Compact  with, 
and  recognized  by  his  Predecessors  and  Fathers, 
Kings  of  Great  Britain — laid  upon  us  Burdens  too 
heavy  and  grievous  to  be  borne  and  issued  many 
cruel  and  oppressive  Edicts,  depriving  us  of  our 
natural,  lawful  and  most  important  Rights,  and 
subjecting  us  to  the  absolute  Power  and  Controul 
of  himself  and  the  British  Legislature;  against 
which  we  have  sought  Relief,  by  humble,  earnest 
and  dutiful  Complaints  and  Petitions:  But,  in- 
stead of  obtaining  Redress  our  Petitions  have  been 
treated  with  Scorn  and  Contempt,  and  fresh  In- 
juries heaped  upon  us  while  hostile  armies  and 
ships  are  sent  to  lay  waste  our  Country.  In  this 
distressing  Dilemma,  having  no  Alternative  but 
absolute  Slavery  or  successful  Resistance,  this, 
and  the  United  American  Colonies  have  been  con- 
strained by  the  overruling  laws  of  Self  Preserva- 
tion to  take  up  Arms  for  the  Defence  of  all  that 


Connecticut's  Declaration  of  Independence  181 

is  sacred  and  dear  to  Freemen,  and  make  this 
solemn  Appeal  to  Heaven  for  the  Justice  of  their 
Cause,  and  resist  Force  by  Force. 

"  God  Almighty  has  been  pleased  of  his  infinite 
Mercy  to  succeed  our  Attempts,  and  give  us  many 
Instances  of  signal  Success  and  Deliverance.  But 
the  wrath  of  the  King  is  still  increasing,  and  not 
content  with  before  employing  all  the  Force  which 
can  be  sent  from  his  own  Kingdom  to  execute  his 
cruel  Purposes,  has  procured,  and  is  sending  all 
the  Mercenaries  he  can  obtain  from  foreign  coun- 
tries to  assist  in  extirpating  the  Rights  of  America, 
and  with  theirs  almost  all  the  liberty  remaining 
among  Mankind. 

"In  this  most  critical  and  alarming  situation, 
this  and  all  the  Colonies  are  called  upon  and  ear- 
nestly pressed  by  the  Honorable  Congress  of  the 
American  Colonies  united  for  mutual  defence,  to 
raise  a  large  additional  number  of  their  militia 
and  able  men  to  be  furnished  and  equipped  with 
all  possible  Expedition  for  defence  against  the  soon 
expected  attack  and  invasion  of  those  who  are  our 
Enemies  without  a  Cause.  In  cheerful  compli- 
ance with  which  request  and  urged  by  Motives 
the  most  cogent  and  important  that  can  affect  the 
human  Mind,  the  General  Assembly  of  this  Col- 


182  In  Olde  Connecticut 

ony  have  freely  and  unanimously  agreed  and  re- 
solved, that  upwards  of  Seven  Thousand  able  and 
effective  Men  be  immediately  raised,  furnished 
and  equipped  for  the  great  and  interesting  Pur- 
poses aforesaid.  And  not  desirous  that  any  should 
go  to  a  warfare  at  their  own  charges  (though 
equally  interested  with  others)  for  defence  of  the 
great  and  all-important  Cause  in  which  we  are 
engaged,  have  granted  large  and  liberal  Pay  and 
Encouragements  to  all  who  shall  voluntarily  un- 
dertake for  the  Defence  of  themselves  and  their 
country  as  by  their  acts  may  appear,  I  do  therefore 
by  and  with  the  advice  of  the  Counsel,  and  at  the 
desire  of  the  Representatives  in  General  Court 
assembled,  issue  this  PROCLAMATION,  and  make 
the  solemn  Appeal  to  the  Virtue  and  public  Spirit 
of  the  good  People  of  this  Colony.  Affairs  are 
hastening  fast  to  a  Crisis,  and  the  approaching 
Campaign  will  in  all  Probability  determine  forever 
the  fate  of  AMERICA.  If  this  should  be  successful 
on  our  side,  there  is  little  to  fear  on  account  of 
any  other.  Be  exhorted  to  rise  therefore  to  su- 
perior exertions  on  this  great  Occasion,  and  let 
all  that  are  able  and  necessary  show  themselves 
ready  in  Behalf  of  their  injured  and  oppressed 
Country,  and  come  forth  to  the  help  of  the  Lord 


Connecticut's  Declaration  of  Independence  183 

against  the  Mighty,  and  convince  the  unrelenting 
Tyrant  of  Britain  that  they  are  resolved  to  be 
Free.  Let  them  step  forth  to  defend  their  Wives, 
their  little  Ones,  their  Liberty,  and  everything  they 
hold  sacred  and  dear,  to  defend  the  Cause  of  their 
Country,  their  Religion,  and  their  God.  Let 
every  one  to  the  utmost  of  their  Power  lend  a 
helping  Hand,  to  promote  and  forward  a  design 
on  which  the  salvation  of  America  now  evidently 
depends.  Nor  need  any  be  dismayed:  the  Cause 
is  certainly  a  just  and  a  glorious  one :  God  is  able 
to  save  us  in  such  way  and  manner  as  he  pleases 
and  to  humble  our  proud  Oppressors.  The  Cause 
is  that  of  Truth  and  Justice;  he  has  already  shown 
his  Power  in  our  behalf,  and  for  the  Destruction 
of  many  of  our  Enemies.  Our  Fathers  trusted  in 
him  and  were  delivered.  Let  us  all  repent  and 
thoroughly  amend  our  Ways  and  turn  to  him,  put 
all  our  Trust  and  Confidence  in  him — in  his  Name 
go  forth,  and  in  his  Name  set  up  our  Banners, 
and  he  will  save  us  with  temporal  and  eternal  sal- 
vation. And  while  our  Armies  are  abroad  jeop- 
arding their  lives  in  the  high  Places  of  the  Field,* 

*  The  use  of  these  words  is  very  striking,  seeing  that 
in  Governor  Trumbull's  own  State  the  monument  now 
standing,  opposite  New  London,  in  honor  of  the  victims  of 


184  In  Olde  Connecticut 

let  all  who  remain  at  home,  cry  mightily  to  God 
for  the  Protection  of  his  Providence  to  shield  and 
defend  their  lives  from  Death,  and  to  crown  them 
with  victory  and  success.  And  in  the  Name  of 
the  said  General  Assembly  I  do  hereby  earnestly 
recommend  it  to  all,  both  Ministers  and  People 
frequently  to  meet  together  for  social  prayer  to 
Almighty  God  for  the  outpouring  of  his  blessed 
Spirit  upon  this  guilty  land — That  he  would 
awaken  his  People  to  Righteousness  and  Repent- 
ance, bless  our  Councils,  prosper  our  Arms  and 
succeed  the  Measures  using  for  our  necessary  self- 
defence — disappoint  the  evil  and  cruel  Devices  of 
our  Enemies — preserve  our  precious  Rights  and 
Liberties,  lengthen  out  our  Tranquillity,  and  make 
us  a  People  of  his  Praise,  and  the  blessed  of  the 
Lord,  as  long  as  the  Sun  and  Moon  shall  en- 
dure. 

"And  all  the  Ministers  of  the  Gospel  in  this 
Colony,  are  directed  and  desired,  to  publish  this 
Proclamation  in  their  several  churches  and  con- 
gregations, and  to  enforce  the  Exhortations  thereof 

the  massacre  of  Groton  Heights,  bears  most  appropriately 
the  entire  verse  (Judges,  v.  18).  "  Zebulun  and  Naphtali 
were  a  people  that  jeoparded  their  lives  unto  the  death  in 
the  high  places  of  the  field." 


Connecticut's  Declaration  of  Independence  185 

by  their  own  pious  Example  and  public  instruc- 
tions. 

"  Given  under  my  Hand  at  the  Council  Chamber 
in  Hartford,  the  ISth  day  of  June  Anno  Domini 
1776. 

"  JONATHAN  TRUMBULL.  " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ANCIENT   LITCHFIELD 

ONE  of  the  most  charming  of  New  England 
villages  is  Litchfield,  in  northwestern  Con- 
necticut— charming  in  a  way  very  palpable  to  the 
senses,  though  difficult  indeed  to  define,  as  one 
is  forced  to  conclude  after  passing  an  hour  under 
its  elms  in  a  vain  effort  to  discover  the  source  of 
his  emotions.  Perhaps  this  is  to  be  found  in  its 
utter  quiet  and  seclusion,  or  in  its  beauty  of  sit- 
uation; perhaps,  again,  in  its  historical  impor- 
tance, in  the  traditions  of  past  glory  and  greatness 
which  throw  over  it  a  glamour  of  old  romance 
and  antiquarian  splendor.  It  was  formerly  of  the 
first  social  and  political  importance,  and  has  been 
so  fruitful  of  heroic  men  and  women,  and  has  so 
abounded  in  historic  deeds,  that  it  may  be  said 
to  have  a  history  and  a  literature  of  its  own;  in- 
deed, many  of  the  names  which  the  village  gossips 
interweave  with  their  tales  would  confer  luster  on 
any  annals.  The  Wolcotts,  father  and  son,  Ethan 


Ancient  Litchfield  187 

Allen,  Colonel  Tallmadge,  Judges  Reeves,  Adams, 
Church  and  Gould,  Dr.  Bellamy,  Dr.  Bushnell, 
the  three  Beecher  brothers,  John  Pierpont,  poet 
and  pastor,  Aaron  Burr,  John  C.  Calhoun,  Cath- 
arine Beecher,  Mrs.  Stowe,  Hollister,  the  Dem- 
ings,  the  Huntingtons,  the  Seymours,  the  Wood- 
ruffs, are  a  few  only  of  the  famous  names  inti- 
mately connected  with  the  village  history.  In 
addition  is  the  wealth  of  tradition  before  men- 
tioned, to  whose  subtle  charm  even  the  bitterest 
iconoclast  would  submit  both  reason  and  imagi- 
nation; hence  the  curious  stranger,  as  he  loiters 
through  its  streets  in  a  summer  atmosphere  of 
poesy  and  sentiment,  will  find  on  every  side  re- 
minders of  "  the  days  that  are  no  more. " 

About  the  antiquated  mansion  of  Governor 
Wolcott  on  South  street,  for  instance,  this  "  legend 
of  good  women"  still  lingers: 

"  At  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution,  as  is  well 
known,  the  patriots  stood  in  imminent  need  of 
ammunition,  especially  of  lead  to  run  into  bullets, 
and  early  in  1776  the  leaden  statue  of  George  III. 
which  stood  on  Bowling  Green  in  New  York,  was 
overthrown  and  brought  to  Litchfield,  where  it  was 
made  into  bullets  by  the  ladies  of  the  village,  the 
men  being  absent  on  more  actively  martial  duties. 


188  In  Olde  Connecticut 

"The  statue  was  deposited  in  Governor  Wol- 
cott's  apple  orchard,  and  ladies  of  the  first  rank 
and  fortune — among  them  Laura  and  Mary  Wol- 
cott,  the  fair  daughters  of  the  Governor — engaged 
in  the  enterprise.  It  was  rough  work  for  hands 
unaccustomed  to  labor;  curls  were  tangled  and 
fair  faces  flushed,  and  tender  fingers  were  blis- 
tered by  the  molten  lead,  but  they  persevered,  and 
at  sunset  a  conical  mound  of  forty-two  thousand 
and  eighty-eight  cartridges  (as  is  learned  from  a 
paper  left  by  Governor  Wolcott  himself)  attested 
to  the  skill  and  fidelity  with  which  they  labored. 
There  was  a  grim  sort  of  humor,  fully  appreci- 
ated, no  doubt,  by  the  stern  Governor  and  his 
associates,  in  this  making  King  George's  statue 
into  bullets  wherewith  to  mow  down  the  battalions 
of  King  George's  army. " 

Across  the  way  from  Governor  Wolcott's  is  the 
mansion  house  of  Judge  Tapping  Reeve,  where 
Lafayette  and  Rochambeau  were  entertained  in 
May,  1777,  and  which  was  the  home  of  Aaron 
Burr  while  a  resident  of  Litchfield.  Burr's  only 
sister,  to  whom  he  was  deeply  attached,  the  wife 
of  Judge  Reeve,  was  then  mistress  of  the  mansion, 
and  he  came  hither  to  engage  in  the  study  of  the 
law  fresh  from  his  theological  controversy  with 


Ancient  Litchfield  189 

Dr.  Bellamy,  who  lived  in  Bethlehem,  but  seven 
miles  distant.  Here  he  passed  a  year  or  more, 
studying  a  little  law,  paying  court  to  the  village 
beauties,  and  hunting  and  fishing  in  the  adjacent 
woods  and  waters,  and  from  here  he  set  out  with 
his  friend  Ogden  to  join  the  Continental  army 
before  Boston,  and  later  for  the  heroic  march  with 
Arnold  through  the  wilderness  to  Quebec.  While 
absent  on  this  expedition  he  wrote  several  inter- 
esting letters  to  his  sister  which  are  still  preserved 
in  the  village. 

A  few  years  after  Burr's  departure  Litchfield 
welcomed  another  American  of  ominous  fame — 
John  C.  Calhoun — who  passed  almost  three  years 
of  his  checkered  career  in  this  classic  village,  and 
here  nursed  those  gloomy,  disorganizing  fancies 
which  this  generation  has  seen  ripen  into  bitter 
fruit.  Perhaps  the  golden  legends  of  the  village 
center  about  two  ancient  mansions  in  North  Street, 
once  the  home  of  Judge  Gould,  where  the  students 
of  the  famous  Litchfield  Law  School  met  for  reci- 
tation ;  the  other  the  square-built,  aggressive-look- 
ing structure  which  was  the  seat  of  Miss  Sarah 
Pierce's  no  less  famous  Young  Ladies'  Seminary. 
These  two  schools  drew  their  students  from  every 
part  of  the  Union,  and  gave  to  the  village  a  na- 


190  In  Olde  Connecticut 

tional  fame.  Miss  Pierce's  school  was  estab- 
lished in  1792,  and  was  very  successful  from  the 
first — due,  a  cynical  observer  would  insist,  to  the 
fact,  patent  to  marriageable  maidens  and  manag- 
ing mammas,  of  the  existence  in  the  village  of  a 
law  school  which  numbered  among  its  students 
one  hundred  of  the  most  eligible  young  men  of 
the  country.  Considering  the  strict  laws  which 
then  governed  the  relations  of  the  sexes,  it  is 
somewhat  strange  that  the  schools  should  have 
been  placed  so  near  to  each  other — with  only  a 
narrow  yard  intervening;  but  this  was  probably 
the  result  of  accident  rather  than  of  design;  cer- 
tain it  is  that  a  handkerchief  waved  from  the  rear 
windows  of  Miss  Pierce's  establishment  would 
have  been  at  once  perceived  in  Judge  Reeve's 
recitation  room,  nor  could  the  Romeos  and  Ju- 
liets of  the  day  have  met  but  few  obstacles  in  ar- 
ranging their  stolen  interviews ;  yet  so  salutary  was 
the  moral  atmosphere  of  the  village,  and  so  nice 
the  sense  of  honor  and  purity  implanted  in  the 
breasts  of  these  young  people,  that  not  a  breath 
of  scandal  arose  against  them — not  even  a  moon- 
light escapade  occurred  to  mar  the  harmony  of 
their  social  relations. 
In  one  of  the  ancient  mansions  of  the  village, 


Ancient  Litchfield  191 

jealously  guarded  from  the  common  eye,  was 
shown  me  a  most  interesting  collection  of  old  let- 
ters and  documents,  some  of  them  even  possess- 
ing historical  importance.  The  ancient  packet, 
when  opened,  exhaled  a  faint  odor  of  lavender, 
and  the  paper  had  taken  on  a  yellowish  tinge  with 
the  lapse  of  a  hundred  years.  None  of  the  letters 
was  inclosed  in  an  envelope,  but  each  was  folded 
and  sealed  with  a  wafer  which  was  stamped  with 
the  seal  of  the  writer;  some  of  them  had  been  sent 
by  private  hand,  others  by  the  post,  and  on  these 
a  fee  of  twenty-five  cents  had  been  collected. 
Most  of  them  were  addressed  to  the  lady  by  whom 
they  were  preserved  and  from  whom  they  have 
descended  to  the  present  possessor;  others  had 
been  directed  to  her  father,  a  once  famous  college 
president,  and  to  her  husband,  a  former  Chief 
Justice,  and  were  from  men  of  the  first  rank  in 
Church  and  State ;  several  were  from  her  brother, 
written  when  a  soldier  in  the  Continental  army, 
but  by  far  the  larger  number  were  from  female 
friends  and  correspondents.  These  last  were 
so  delicate  in  sentiment  and  so  gracefully  and 
fluently  expressed  as  to  effectually  explode  the 
theory  advanced  by  some  modern  pedants  that 
but  little  attention  was  paid  to  the  culture  of 


192  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  female  intellect  in  the  days  of  our  grand- 
mothers. 

Two  of  these  epistles  I  am  permitted  to  publish. 
The  first  is  an  ancient  love  letter,  dated  more  than 
a  hundred  years  ago,  written  by  a  former  Chief 
Justice  of  Connecticut  to  the  lady  whom  he  after- 
ward married,  and  is  of  a  class  always  interesting. 
It  reads  as  follows: 

"  My  Lovely  Sallie :  When  I  was  in  New  Haven 
I  wrote  to  you  by  your  Aunt  Fannie,  which  I  sup- 
pose you  have  received  before  this  time;  if  you 
have  not  this  will  serve  to  inform  you  that  I  did, 
and  that  I  am  never  forgetful  of  my  dear  Sallie. 
The  bearer  is  going  this  minute,  and  I  cannot 
detain  him.  I  did  not  know  until  a  moment  ago 
that  he  was  going,  and  can  therefore  only  inform 
you  that  I  am  well,  and  of  that  which  you  very 
well  know,  that  I  want  to  see  my  charmer.  If  you 
remember,  I  informed  you  that  I  had  in  my, 
possession  a  letter  which  I  had  never  sent,  and 
which  I  now  enclose  to  supply  the  defects  of  this. 
If  Aaron  is  with  you,  give  him  my  kindest  love. 

"I  propose  to  come  to  Fairfield  as  soon  as  I  hear 
that  you  are  got  there.  " 

The  second  letter  is  from  Jonathan  Edwards  to 


Ancient  Litchfield  193 

Aaron  Burr,  the  honored  president  of  Princeton 
College,  and  father  of  the  better  known  man  of 
the  same  name.  It  is  dated  May  5,  1752,  some 
two  months  before  the  marriage  of  President  Burr 
to  Esther  Edwards.  The  finances  of  Princeton 
College  were  then  in  a  crippled  state,  and  Presi- 
dent Burr  had  been  untiring  in  his  efforts  to  place 
it  on  a  solid  financial  foundation.  He  had  written, 
pleaded,  preached  for  it,  had  even  made  several 
journeys  into  New  England  seeking  contributions 
in  its  behalf,  and  was  now  meditating  a  journey 
to  Great  Britain  on  a  similar  errand.  Concerning 
this  project,  in  answer  to  one  from  President  Burr, 
Mr.  Edwards  wrote  the  following  letter: 

"  SHEFFIELD,  May  6,  1752. 
"  Rev.  and  Dear  Sir:  I  thank  you  for  your  favor 
by  Williams  your  pupil,  and  also  for  your  other 
letter  rec'd  before.  My  not  answering  them  be- 
fore now  was  not  in  the  least  owing  to  want  of 
resolution,  or  any  disposition  to  uphold  any  mis- 
understanding, but  partly  from  the  multitude  of 
affairs  which  have  continually  pressed  my  mind, 
which  yet  would  not  have  prevented  my  writing 
if  I  had  known  of  any  good  opportunity.  I  heard 
nothing  of  Mr.  Josiah  Williams  going  away  in 


194  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  winter  till  after  he  had  gone ;  if  I  had  I  should 
doubtless  have  wrote  by  him.  As  to  the  affair  of 
the  report  of  what  you  said  concerning  my  book 
on  the  'Terms  of  Communion,'  &c.,  from  the 
credit  I  give  your  representation,  I  fully  believe 
you  have  been  misrepresented,  and  therefore  don't 
think  it  worth  while  to  make  an  uproar  in  tracing 
the  matter  to  the  original. 

"  I  would  pray  you  to  give  your  mind  no  further 
uneasiness  about  the  matter,  as  though  anything 
remained  with  me  to  occasion  disaffection;  I  as- 
sure you  there  is  nothing  of  that  nature.  You  are 
pleased  to  ask  my  thoughts  concerning  your  pro- 
posed voyage  to  Great  Britain  for  the  sake  of  New 
Jersey  College.  You  have  those  nearer  to  you 
than  myself,  as  well  informed  of  the  circumstances 
and  necessities  of  the  College,  that  are  vastly  more 
able  and  in  fitter  circumstances  to  advise  you — 
Governor  Belcher  and  the  trustees  in  particular. 
There  doubtless  might  great  advantages  be  ob- 
tained by  your  going  to  England  and  Scotland 
and  spending  about  a  year  in  Great  Britain,  more 
than  by  all  letters  that  could  be  written;  the  only 
doubt  is  whether  the  College  won't  extremely  suf- 
fer by  your  being  so  long  absent,  but  of  that  I  am 
not  a  fit  person  to  judge.  One  thing  I  will  ven- 


Ancient  Litchfield  195 

ture  to  give  you  my  thoughts  on,  namely:  that 
since  you  have  not  had  the  smallpox,  if  you  find 
a  skillful  and  prudent  physician  under  whose  care 
you  can  put  yourself,  you  would  take  the  small- 
pox by  inoculation  before  you  go,  after  properly 
preparing  your  body  for  it  by  physic  and  diet. 
....  If  you  go  to  Great  Britain  I  shall  be 
ready  to  do  my  utmost  to  further  the  designs  of 
your  going  in  my  next  letter  to  Scotland.  Mr. 
Wright  can  inform  you  something  of  the  state  of 
things  in  Stockbridge.  You  may  perhaps  do 
much  to  promote  our  affairs  in  London;  but  I 
hope  to  write  to  you  again  about  these  matters 
before  you  go.  In  the  mean  time,  asking  your 
prayers,  I  am,  dear  sir, 

"  Your  friend  and  brother, 

"  JONATHAN  EDWARDS. 

The  foregoing  letter  forms  a  part  of  the  unwrit- 
ten history  of  Princeton  College,  and  ought  to  be 
preserved  in  the  archives  of  that  institution. 


CHAPTER  XV 

MINING   IN   CONNECTICUT 

NOT  long  ago  a  paragraph  went  the  rounds 
of  the  press  announcing  the  formation  of  a 
syndicate  of  capitalists  in  Wallingford  and  New 
Haven  for  the  purpose  of  boring  for  coal  in  Con- 
necticut. The  announcement  brought  a  smile  of 
derision  to  the  faces  of  many,  no  doubt,  yet  these 
capitalists  are  not  wholly  without  reason  for  the 
belief  that  coal  in  quantity  may  be  found  there. 
The  thrifty  little  State  has  made  more  progress 
in  agriculture  and  manufacture  than  in  mining, 
it  is  true,  yet  the  mineral  wealth  within  her  borders 
is  remarkable,  as  was  shown  to  my  satisfaction 
recently  by  a  gentleman  largely  interested  in  the 
coal-mining  experiment  above  referred  to,  whose 
knowledge  of  the  State's  mineral  resources  is 
varied  and  comprehensive. 

"  The  rocks  of  Connecticut  abound  in  veins  of 
mineral,"  he  began,  "  some  of  them  exceedingly 
rare — in  fact,  seven  minerals  entirely  new  to 


Mining  in  Connecticut  197 

science  were  once  found  in  a  single  ledge  in  the 
western  part  of  the  State.  Merchantable  mica, 
a  rare  commodity,  has  been  taken  by  the  hundred 
pounds  from  the  feldspar  beds  of  Ridgefield. 
Asbestos  has  been  found  in  the  limestone  quarries 
in  Redding.  Jonathan  Trumbull,  the  Revolu- 
tionary Governor  of  Connecticut,  supplied  his 
troops  with  lead  taken  partly  from  a  mine  in 
Middletown.  Many  engineers  would  be  surprised 
to  learn  that  a  vein  of  cobalt  has  been  successfully 
worked  in  this  State.  It  was  opened  in  Chatham, 
near  Middletown,  about  1762,  by  Dr.  Stephannes, 
a  German  chemist,  and  large  quantities  of  ore  were 
shipped  in  casks  to  Germany  or  England — no 
one  knew  exactly  where,  it  being  the  Doctor's 
whim  to  keep  his  movements  as  secret  as  possible. 
If  you  follow  up  that  singular  trap  formation 
which  begins  with  the  East  and  West  Rocks  at  New 
Haven  and  stretches  northward  to  Massachusetts, 
you  will  find  it  honeycombed  with  holes  dug  by 
prospectors  for  the  precious  metals,  and  at  Sims- 
bury,  in  this  range,  you  will  see  an  immense 
cavern,  with  shafts,  galleries  and  chambers,  ex- 
cavated before  the  Revolution  for  the  rich  hoards 
of  copper  they  contained.  This  mine  later  be- 
came famous  as  the  Newgate,  the  State  prison  of 


198  In  Olde  Connecticut 

Connecticut.  Several  veins  of  lead  and  copper 
have  been  discovered  and  superficially  worked  in 
the  hills  of  Plymouth,  in  the  Naugatuck  Valley. 
"  If  we  pass  westward  over  the  hills  separating 
this  valley  from  that  of  the  Shepaug,  a  branch 
of  the  Housatonic,  we  find  in  ancient  Woodbury 
a  rich  mineral  field.  Mr.  Cothren  in  his  history 
of  that  town  gives  the  following  list  of  minerals 
actually  discovered  there,  or  in  its  immediate 
vicinity:  iron,  ocher,  Fuller's-earth,  agates, 
prehnite,  epidote,  chalcedony,  purple  quartz, 
plumbago,  magnetic  iron  pyrites,  albite,  white 
copperas,  dyalogyte,  triplite,  gypsum,  kyanite, 
mesotype,  andalusite,  spar,  hornblende,  botryoidal 
chalidocrase,  garnet,  dolomite,  bitumen,  opal, 
chrichtonite,  mispickel,  yellow  copper  pyrites, 
coal,  mica  and  spathic  or  steel  ore.  This  latter 
merits  a  further  description.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  mineral  deposits  in  the  country. 
The  mine  is  up  the  Shepaug,  some  six  miles  above 
its  confluence  with  the  Housatonic,  and  is  marked 
by  the  great  grimy  stack  of  an  iron  furnace.  It  is 
on  a  hill  some  350  feet  high,  and  has  a  shaft  about 
150  feet  deep.  The  ore  is  harder  than  calcareous 
spar,  and  may  be  smelted  into  the  very  best 
German  steel.  In  fact,  it  is  the  only  ore  in  this 


Mining  in  Connecticut  199 

country  that  can  compete  with  ore  from  the 
German  mines.  An  analysis  shows  protoxide 
of  iron  57  to  60,  carbonic  acid  34  to  36,  with 
traces  of  lime,  manganese  and  magnesia.  It 
was  first  opened  in  1750  for  silver,  and  worked 
for  that  metal  till  a  shaft  125  feet  deep  had  been 
sunk,  when  it  was  abandoned.  It  has  been 
worked  to  some  extent  within  the  last  twenty- 
five  years  for  spathic  ore,  and  has  produced 
steel  of  excellent  quality,  but  the  title  is  unfortu- 
nately in  dispute,  and  has  been  for  some  years 
in  the  courts. 

"The  marble  quarries  of  New  Preston  are  no 
doubt  well  known  to  you,  and  the  same  might  be 
said  of  the  famous  Salisbury  iron-ore  beds.  As 
one  goes  up  the  Housatonic  Valley,  he  strikes  at 
Kent  the  first  furnace  supplied  with  ore  from 
this  district.  There  are  one  or  two  more  furnaces 
at  Cornwall  Bridge,  one  at  Lime  Rock,  two  or 
three  in  Canaan.  Seen  at  night,  with  the  flames 
pouring  from  their  great  black  stacks,  they  add 
not  a  little  to  the  picturesqueness  of  that  exceed- 
ingly interesting  region.  Three  ore  beds — the 
Old  Hill,  Davis  and  Chatfield— supply  all  of 
them  and  are  situated  on  the  east  slope  of  the 
Taghkanic  range,  near  the  village  of  Salisbury. 


200  In  Olde  Connecticut 

These  ore  beds  are  the  furthest  remove  from  one's 
idea  of  iron  mines,  being  simply  huge  openings, 
several  acres  in  extent,  in  the  sides  of  the  green, 
grassy  hills  peculiar  to  that  region.  The  ore  is 
brown  hematite  of  the  best  quality;  the  iron  it 
makes  is  the  best  produced  in  the  United  States, 
and  is  made  up  into  car  wheels  and  other  articles 
requiring  the  toughest  and  most  malleable  metal. 
Its  quality  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  early  in  the 
Revolution,  Governor  Jonathan  Trumbull  caused 
a  foundry  to  be  erected  in  Salisbury,  and  there 
cast  from  this  iron,  cannon,  cannon  balls,  and 
other  munitions  for  the  patriot  troops. 

"  Lower  down  the  Housatonic  Valley,  at  Sandy 
Hook  in  Newtown,  we  have  a  gold  mine  which  was 
worked  by  British  soldiers  in  the  Revolution, 
and  casks  of  its  ore  sent  to  England  for  treat- 
ment. From  one  pound  of  its  ore  seventy-two 
cents  in  gold  and  eleven  in  silver  were  taken, 
if  the  assay er  is  to  be  believed. 

"But,  to  return  to  our  own  special  undertak- 
ing. The  working  of  all  the  veins  I  have  named 
has  been  entirely  superficial — the  work  of  men 
without  capital,  skill  or  experience.  Our  project 
proposes  to  make  use  of  all  the  appliances  which 
capital  can  command,  and  prove  the  question 


Mining  in  Connecticut  201 

once  for  all  whether  there  is  a  paying  bed  of 
coal,  and  perhaps  iron,  underlying  our  bitumi- 
nous shales.  We  have  formed  a  syndicate  and 
have  nearly  succeeded  in  raising  $15,000  in  $2.50 
shares  (6,000  shares),  representing  a  capital  stock 
(should  the  enterprise  prove  successful)  of 
$120,000  at  $20  per  share.  We  have  leased  a 
tract  of  fifteen  hundred  acres  of  land  in  Durham, 
a  town  adjoining  Wallingford  on  the  east,  and 
propose  to  explore  it  for  coal  with  the  modern 
diamond  drill.  We  have  chosen  this  neighbor- 
hood because  here  are  strong  indications  of  coal. 
Perhaps  you  would  like  to  read  the  report  of  a 
well-known  geologist  who  has  recently  examined 
this  tract  for  us. 

"Prof.  Forrest  Shepard  writes:  'I  have  visited 
and  examined  your  leased  mineral  lands  in  the 
township  of  Durham,  Conn.,  and  find  surface 
indications  for  coal-seams  superior  to  those  I 
found  in  North  Carolina,  where  within  about  200 
yards  of  a  trap-ridge  I  discovered  an  excellent 
coal-seam  of  about  six  feet  in  thickness;  even 
better  than  the  surface  indications  I  found  at 
Chesterfield,  Va.,  where  at  a  depth  of  700  feet, 
coal  30  feet  in  thickness  based  on  hard  granite, 
was  struck,  which  has  led  to  a  vast  coal  trade. 


£02  In  Olde  Connecticut 

...  I  hope  a  test  will  be  made  on  your  prop- 
erty, in  places  pointed  out,  by  boring,  for  the 
satisfaction  of  the  public,  and  to  settle  the  ques- 
tion whether  we  have  a  good  coal  deposit  so  near 
home.'  " 

This  conversation  was  brought  to  the  writer's 
mind  afresh  a  few  days  since  by  a  two  days'  ride 
through  one  of  the  prettiest  portions  of  Con- 
necticut, which  brought  to  notice  much  of  this 
newly-discovered  mineral  wealth  of  which  our 
friend  had  spoken.  The  ride  embraced  the  towns 
of  Ridgefield,  Redding,  Bethel  and  Newtown, 
which  stretch  across  the  northern  portion  of  Fair- 
field  County,  from  the  New  York  State  line  to  the 
Housatonic. 

We  first  visited  Branchville  in  Ridgefield,  a 
little  station  on  the  Danbury  and  Norwalk  Rail- 
road, some  twelve  miles  above  Norwalk,  and  nota- 
ble as  the  place  where,  in  1877,  a  remarkable 
group  of  minerals,  entirely  new  to  science,  was 
discovered.  A  deep  feldspar  quarry,  from  which 
several  thousand  tons  of  the  finest  feldspar  have 
been  shipped,  now  occupies  the  place  where  they 
were  taken  out,  which  is  on  the  lower  slope  of  a 
hill  rising  steeply  up  into  granite  crags.  The  man 
to  whom  belongs  the  credit  of  first  introducing 


Mining  in  Connecticut  203 

them  to  science,  was  the  Rev.  John  Dickinson, 
who  at  the  time  was  pastor  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  in  Redding.  Mr.  Dickin- 
son's account  of  the  discovery,  which  we  had 
heard  before  visiting  the  place,  was  quite  in- 
teresting. "I  was,"  said  he,  "one  day  ram- 
bling among  the  Branchville  ledges,  when  I  dis- 
covered in  Fillow's  field  and  on  the  walls,  a  min- 
eral entirely  new  to  me,  and,  as  I  believed,  to 
science.  I  selected  several  specimens,  and  left 
some  at  Columbia  College  and  some  with  Pro- 
fessor Brush,  of  Yale. 

"  Brush  was  incredulous — some  of  the  Branch- 
ville specimens  had  before  been  taken  by  the  elder 
Dana  without  result — but  in  a  few  days  I  got  a 
letter  from  him  asking  for  more;  then  shortly 
after  I  met  him  on  the  cars,  on  his  way  to  Branch- 
ville, and  found  him  enthusiastic.  He  had 
opened  the  vein,  had  found  albite,  microcline, 
and  new  minerals  that  promised  wonderful  re- 
sults. Well,  the  matter  was  followed  up  until 
seven  entirely  new  minerals  were  discovered  and 
described  in  the  scientific  journals,  viz.:  First, 
Eosphorite,  chemically  akin  to  phosphorite;  sec- 
ond, Triploidite;  third,  Dickinsonite ;  fourth, 
Lithiophilite;  fifth,  Reddingite;  sixth,  Fairfieldite, 


204  In  Olde  Connecticut 

and  seventh,  Fillowite.  All  mineralogists  agreed 
that  this  was  a  colossal  discovery;  there  were, 
however,  other  remarkable  features  connected 
with  it.  Some  twenty-five  different  known  min- 
erals were  found  in  the  pocket,  many  of  them 
occurring  in  unique  forms.  We  found  mica, 
for  instance,  in  globular  form;  curved  mica  we 
call  it;  and  specimens  sent  to  twenty  prominent 
mineralogists  in  various  parts  of  the  world  elicited 
the  fact  that  they  had  never  before  known  it  to 
occur  in  that  form.  Again  there  is  a  mineral 
known  as  spodumene,  which  contains  lithia,  and 
occurs  usually  in  small  crystals ;  but  here  a  crystal 
was  found  eight  feet  long,  sixteen  inches  wide  and 
between  four  and  five  thick.  Another  rare  feature 
was  that  this  spodumene  had  been  pseudomoFphed 
into  another  rare  mineral  known  as  cymatolite, 
which  also  appeared  in  large  crystals."  Profes- 
sors Bruch  and  Dana,  in  the  "American  Journal 
of  Science  and  Arts,"  for  July,  1878,  gave  an  in- 
teresting account  of  the  discovery  and  description 
of  the  minerals  found  by  them  on  a  visit  to  this 
spot. 

Further  proof  of  activity  in  developing  the 
mineral  resources  of  this  part  of  the  State  is  seen 
in  a  large  frame  building  standing  just  across 


Mining  in  Connecticut  205 

the  track  from  the  quarry  on  the  line  of  the 
branch  road  leading  to  Ridgefield.  This  build- 
ing, 161  feet  by  50,  two  stories  and  basement,  has 
been  erected  and  furnished  with  powerful  and 
costly  machinery  for  the  purpose  of  crushing  the 
quartz,  or,  more  properly,  oxide  of  silicon,  found 
in  the  neighboring  hills.  The  company  owns 
three  quarries  within  a  radius  of  three  miles  of 
the  works,  and  has  others  at  command.  The 
works  comprise  a  kiln  in  which  the  stone  is  first 
calcined,  an  engine,  chases  and  rubbing  tubs  in 
which,  after  burning,  the  silicon  is  crushed  and 
then  ground  to  a  fine  powder.  The  product  is 
used  in  the  arts  of  making  soap  and  paint,  and 
as  glazing  for  pottery. 

For  our  second  day's  ride  we  drove  to  Bethel, 
eight  miles,  and  from  thence  three  miles  in  a 
southerly  direction,  to  inspect  a  famous  tourma- 
line rock  and  a  second  feldspar  quarry  recently 
opened  near  by.  Our  road  led  along  the  borders 
of  Redding,  Bethel  and  Newtown,  and  as  we 
drove  we  were  sometimes  in  one  town,  sometimes 
in  another.  The  region  is  as  wild,  woody  and 
lonesome  as  could  be  imagined,  a  forest  of  several 
square  miles  in  extent,  known  as  Hopewell 
Woods,  covering  the  craggy,  almost  mountainous 


206  In  Olde  Connecticut 

hills  that  here  divide  the  richly  cultivated  hill 
slopes  of  Redding  from  those  of  Newtown.  A 
mile's  travel  through  a  forest  path  fairly  paved 
with  glossy  brown  chestnuts  brought  us  to  the 
quarry,  which  only  began  active  operations  last 
April,  but  has  already  opened  a  large  chasm  in  the 
rocky  heart  of  the  hill.  This  vein,  we  learned, 
is  controlled  jointly  by  the  New  Jersey  Flint  and 
Spar  Company  and  the  International  Pottery, 
both  of  Trenton,  New  Jersey,  and  all  its  stone 
is  shipped  there,  being  hauled  three  miles  and  a 
half  by  horses  to  Plumtrees,  a  way  station  on  the 
Shepaug  Railroad. 

Some  very  interesting  specimens  have  been  un- 
earthed in  quarrying  here.  We  saw  in  Superin- 
tendent Sloan's  office  an  immense  tourmaline 
crystal,  measuring  three  feet  by  eighteen  inches, 
and  very  pretty  specimens  of  beryl,  columbite, 
albite,  mica  and  rose-quartz.  Several  of  these 
veins  of  feldspar  crop  out  through  the  forest, 
and  as  the  stone,  it  is  said,  can  be  profitably 
shipped  to  England,  it  is  possible  that  a  great 
industry  may  spring  up  among  these  rock-ribbed 
hills.  Coming  out,  we  stopped  to  view,  near  the 
roadside,  the  tourmaline  rock,  an  object  of  in- 
terest for  many  years  to  both  professional  and 


Mining  in  Connecticut  207 

amateur  mineralogists.  It  is  an  immense  granite 
bowlder  stranded  on  a  hilltop,  and  stuck  full,  like 
plums  in  pudding,  of  black  glistening  tourmaline 
crystals  of  all  shapes,  sizes  and  degrees  of  bril- 
liancy. Black  fragments  and  heaps  of  tourmaline 
dust  at  the  base  of  the  rock  bear  witness  to  the 
presence  and  ardor  of  many  prospectors  and 
specimen-hunters. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   PEQUOT   INDIANS 

IT  is  a  fact  little  known  that  a  remnant  of  the 
once  powerful  Pequot  race  still  maintains  a 
tribal  organization  in  Connecticut.  Schaghticoke, 
the  ancient  seat  of  this  people,  is  situated  in  the 
town  of  Kent  under  the  Schaghticoke  Mountain 
in  the  middle  valley  of  the  Housatonic.  It  is  on 
the  edge  of  the  great  bowl-like  depression  in  the 
hills  that  make  room  for  the  beautiful  Kent 
meadows,  and  two  and  one  half-miles  south  of 
pretty  Kent  village.  The  Housatonic  flows  before 
it  so  near  that  there  is  barely  room  for  the  village 
between  it  and  the  mountain.  Schaghticoke  con- 
sists of  six  little,  brown,  clap-boarded  one-story 
houses  tenanted  by  some  seventeen  persons.  The 
reservation  of  three  hundred  acres  comprises 
Schaghticoke  Mountain,  valuable  only  for  its  tim- 
ber, and  extends  west  some  two  miles  to  the  State 
of  New  York.  The  Indian  question  excites  so 
much  interest  just  now,  that  the  history  of  this 


The  Pequot  Indians  209 

ancient  people,  Connecticut's  dealings  with  them 
and  its  results  is  not  without  significance  and 
value.  The  founder  of  the  Schaghticoke  tribe 
was  Mawwehu,  a  chief  of  the  royal  Pequot  blood. 
When  that  tribe  was  dispersed  by  Captain  Mason 
and  his  men,  a  fragment,  including  several  mem- 
bers of  the  royal  family,  settled  at  Dover  in  New 
York,  some  five  miles  west  of  Schaghticoke  where 
Mawwehu  was  born.  He  had  all  the  ardor  of 
his  race  for  domination,  and  longed  for  a  people 
to  rule  over.  On  a  hunting  excursion  one  day, 
he  discovered  the  Kent  Plains,  then  uninhabited 
by  man,  and  determined  to  found  a  colony  there. 
He  went  to  his  own  people,  to  the  Mohegans  of 
the  Hudson,  the  Housatonics  and  other  wander- 
ing tribes  and,  gathering  them  into  the  valley, 
formed  a  community,  with  himself  as  head.  This 
was  about  1735.  In  1736  the  tribe  numbered  one 
hundred  warriors.  An  interesting  episode  in  its 
history  was  the  arrival  there  in  1742  of  Christian 
Henry  Rauch,  the  famous  Moravian  missionary, 
who  preached  to  the  tribe  with  success.  Maw- 
wehu and  one  hundred  and  fifty  of  his  people 
were  converted;  a  church  was  established,  and 
the  Indians  became  sober  and  industrious.  Un- 
fortunately, this  success  of  the  Moravians  did  not 

N 


210  In  Olde  Connecticut 

meet  the  views  of  the  white  traders  and  dissolute 
characters  who,  as  early  as  1738,  had  pressed  into 
the  valley,  and  they  proceeded  to  drive  away  the 
missionaries.  They  first  poisoned  the  minds  of 
the  Indians  against  them,  and  then  a  little  later 
accused  them  of  being  in  league  with  the  French 
and  drove  them  from  the  valley.  Rauch  and  his 
companions  fled  to  the  Moravian  settlements  at 
Bethlehem,  Pa.,  and  quite  a  number  of  their  In- 
dian converts  went  with  them. 

The  Government  of  Connecticut  pursued  a  just 
and  liberal  policy  toward  those  of  them  who  re- 
mained. When  the  township  of  Kent  was  formed, 
two  large  reservations  were  granted  them — one  in 
the  valley  on  the  east  side  of  the  river,  and  the 
other  of  some  2,000  acres  among  the  mountains. 
They  were  placed  under  the  religious  care  of  the 
church  in  Kent.  The  common  schools,  when  es- 
tablished, were  freely  open  to  them.  When  com- 
plaints of  the  white  man's  aggressions  were  made 
to  the  General  Court,  a  committee  was  appointed 
and  justice  was  generally  done.  For  a  hundred 
years  they  have  been  surrounded  by  an  industri- 
ous and  law-abiding  community;  yet  their  course 
has  been  so  steadily  downward  that  they  are  now 
on  the  verge  of  extinction.  Indolence,  drunken- 


The  Pequot  Indians  211 

ness,  and  intermarriage  with  negroes  and  the 
lower  class  of  whites  are  largely  responsible  for 
this.  Their  improvidence  was  such  that  as  early 
as  1752  they  had  sold  all  the  planting  lands  in 
the  valley.  In  1757  they  had  become  so  incapa- 
ble of  maintaining  themselves  that  the  colony  ap- 
pointed an  overseer,  to  whom  their  property  was 
committed,  and  who  was  charged  with  their  over- 
sight and  maintenance.  From  that  time  forward 
the  affairs  of  the  tribe  have  been  administered  by 
an  agent  of  the  State.  In  a  petition  of  1786  they 
admit  their  ignorance  and  inability  to  take  care 
of  themselves,  and  implore  the  continued  assist- 
ance of  the  whites.  Their  number  is  stated  in 
this  petition  to  be  males  36,  females  35 — of  whom 
20  were  children. 

In  1801  they  were  spoken  of  as  being  reduced 
to  "35  idle,  intemperate  beings  who  cultivated 
only  six  acres  of  ground. "  They  had  then  some 
1,200  or  1,500  acres  of  mountain  land,  which  re- 
mained in  their  possession  chiefly  because  they 
were  unable  to  sell  it,  and  as  the  debts  of  the 
tribe,  from  sickness  and  other  causes,  were  then 
pressing,  Abraham  Fuller,  the  overseer,  petitioned 
that  this  land  might  be  sold,  the  proceeds  to  be 
applied  to  discharging  the  debts,  and  the  surplus, 


212  In  Olde  Connecticut 

if  any,  invested  as  a  permanent  fund.  The  land 
sold  for  £  1,300,  and  the  money'  was  applied  as 
the  petition  suggested  except  that  ,£200  was  used 
in  building  six  cottages  for  the  Indians.  In  1846 
the  overseer  reported  ten  Indians  of  pure  blood 
and  thirty  half-breeds  under  his  care. 

Wishing  to  judge  for  myself  of  the  present  con- 
dition of  the  tribe,  I  one  day  sought  an  interview 
with  the  overseer,  Mr.  Henry  Roberts,  who  lives 
at  Gaylordville,  a  little  village  in  the  town  of  New 
Milford,  and  was  invited  to  accompany  him  on  a 
visit  to  the  Indian  village.  On  setting  out  a  large, 
loaf-shaped  mountain  in  the  north,  some  three 
miles  distant,  was  pointed  out  as  Schaghticoke 
Mountain.  I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  beautiful 
tints  of  its  autumn  foliage.  Our  road  lay  along 
the  left  bank  of  the  river  over  little  foothills  of 
the  valley,  between  meadows  and  pastures,  and 
little  patches  of  forest.  The  valley  walls  contract 
as  you  go  northward,  so  that  your  experience  is 
much  like  riding  into  the  mouth  of  a  funnel.  After 
following  the  river  for  two  and  one-half  miles  we 
crossed  it  by  a  firm,  single-span  bridge,  swept 
around  the  point  of  the  mountain  by  a  road  that 
overhung  the  river,  passed  five  little  brown  cot- 
tages, one  of  them  deserted,  and  drew  up  at  the 


The  Pequot  Indians  213 

home  of  Vinie,  the  Queen  of  the  Schaghticokes — 
Queen  by  inheritance,  she  being  a  great-grand- 
daughter of  Mawwehu,  the  Pequot  chief.  Vinie 
received  us  very  affably.  She  is  a  tall,  angular 
woman  showing  few  traces  of  Indian  blood,  and 
was  clad  in  a  clean  calico  gown  and  apron  of  the 
same  material.  According  to  her  own  account, 
she  is  seventy-five  years  of  age,  although  her  neigh- 
bors say  that  she  is  several  years  older.  There  is 
no  carpet  on  the  floor  of  her  cottage.  Its  furniture 
consists  of  a  cooking  stove,  three  or  four  chairs, 
a  clock,  a  basket,  two  dogs — a  big  and  a  little 
one — and  a  shaving-horse  where  she  prepares  the 
splints  for  her  baskets.  A  pair  of  rude  stairs  leads 
to  a  loft  above.  Questioned  concerning  the  origin 
of  her  people,  the  Queen  gave  a  very  interesting 
and  correct  account  of  the  founding  of  the  tribe. 
She  remembered  hearing  her  grandmother  tell 
many  Indian  tales  and  traditions — love  stories, 
"booger"  stories,  exploits  of  heroes  in  war  and 
the  chase — but  could  not  remember  them  suffi- 
ciently well  to  narrate  them  for  her  visitors'  bene- 
fit. Asked  why  her  people  did  not  retain  the 
habits  and  language  of  the  Indians,  she  said  that 
they  had  lived  so  long  among  the  white  folk  that 
they  loved  white  folk's  ways.  Asked  how  many 


214  In  Olde  Connecticut 

in  number  her  people  were,  she  said  she  "could 
not  tell ;  they  were  scattered  like  grasshoppers. " 
Pressed  for  an  answer,  she  replied,  "About  forty, 
I  suppose.  "  Vinie  is  a  member  of  the  Congrega- 
tional Church  in  Kent,  and  her  pastor  reports  her 
as  living  up  to  the  average  standard.  She  has 
been  busy  and  industrious  all  her  life,  weaving 
baskets,  cultivating  the  acre  or  two  of  land  about 
her  dwelling,  and  has  relied  very  little  on  the  fund 
for  support.  Her  mother  was  a  white  woman. 
She  has  a  half-sister,  Rachel,  who  sometimes 
shares  her  abode  and  who  is  full  blood. 

The  next  cottage  south  of  the  Queen's  is  occu- 
pied by  George  Cogswell,  his  wife  and  four  chil- 
dren. The  husband  is  partly  negro,  the  wife  full 
Indian.  The  next  dwelling,  a  few  yards  south, 
is  the  home  of  an  eccentric  individual  known  lo- 
cally as  Hen  Pan.  He  prides  himself  on  his  un- 
mixed blood,  and  in  scorn  of  his  neighbor's  race- 
mixing  propensities  has  marked  on  his  chimney 
in  large  letters  "I.  AM.  O.  K. "  His  brother, 
Jim  Pan,  who  has  a  white  wife  and  two  children, 
shares  his  cottage.  Of  the  two  other  dwellings 
on  the  reservation  one  is  occupied  by  Mrs.  Kilson, 
a  widow,  an  industrious  and  capable  woman,  the 
mother  of  nine  children,  of  whom  only  one  re- 


The  Pequot  Indians  215 

mains  with  her,  and  the  other  by  Value  Kilson, 
who  has  a  wife  and  four  children.  The  ancient 
burying-ground  of  the  Schaghticokes — a  triangu- 
lar piece  of  ground  inclosed  by  a  dilapidated  board 
fence — adjoins  Value's  cottage.  The  graves  are 
mostly  marked  by  wooden  head-boards,  and  many 
have  not  even  this  memorial.  The  ground  is  sit- 
uated directly  under  a  cliff,  over  which  a  mountain 
brook  tumbles. 

The  present  overseer  has  been  five  years  in  of- 
fice, and,  being  a  firm,  as  well  as  a  humane,  man, 
has  somewhat  improved  the  financial  condition  of 
the  tribe.  He  has  aimed  to  make  them  as  far  as 
possible  self-supporting,  and  the  fund  in  his  hands 
has  shown  a  steady  yearly  increase.  He  has  the 
sole  charge  of  the  tribe,  invests  their  money  to  the 
best  advantage,  gives  them  orders  on  the  country 
merchants  for  necessary  articles  which  they  are 
unable  to  procure  for  themselves,  and  furnishes 
them  with  medicine  and  medical  attendance  when 
sick.  Each  year  he  returns  three  reports  of  his 
stewardship — one  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  one  to 
the  District  Court  of  Litchfield  county,  and  a 
third  to  the  Town  Clerk  of  Kent.  From  his  last 
report  (September,  1881)  I  learn  that  the  present 
reservation  comprises  three  hundred  acres  of  land, 


216  In  Olde  Connecticut 

six  dwelling  houses  (one  unoccupied)  and  three 
stores,  the  whole  valued  at  $3,500.  The  fund  now 
amounts  to  $5,427.45,  an  increase  in  five  years  of 
some  $628. 

Mr.  Roberts  can  make  no  exact  return  of  the 
present  number  of  the  tribe,  as  its  members  are 
widely  scattered,  but  places  their  probable  num- 
ber at  fifty.  Of  these,  however,  but  three  or  four 
are  of  unmixed  Indian  blood. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

GREENFIELD    HILL,    A    ONCE    FAMOUS   VILLAGE 

NOW  and  then  the  pilgrim  chances  on  a  nook 
of  such  quiet  beauty  and  serenity  as  to  sug- 
gest that  earthly  paradise  which  has  filled  so  many 
poet's  dreams.  Such  a  place  is  the  little  hamlet 
from  which  I  write.  Let  one  imagine  a  green 
common,  well  shaded,  with  an  ancient  church  and 
weather-beaten  academy  on  one  side  and  several 
fine  old  country  houses  on  the  other,  placed  on 
the  summit  of  a  hill  overlooking  several  miles  of 
green  meadows  and  the  Sound,  and  he  has  a  pic- 
ture of  this  Arcadia,  which  is  known  in  local  par- 
lance as  "  the  Hill. "  All  about  it  is  a  mass  of 
greenery — green  pastures,  meadows,  forests,  corn- 
fields— only  in  the  grain  fields  does  this  prevailing 
color  change.  The  prevailing  color  appears,  too, 
we  have  remarked,  in  the  local  nomenclature, 
Green  Farms  and  Greenfield  being  the  names  of 
two  hamlets  at  our  doors.  There  is  a  fine  old 
country  seat  here — the  Bronson  estate — which  was 


218  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  objective  point  of  the  Tally-ho  coach  in  one 
of  its  outings  a  few  summers  ago,  a  fact  which, 
for  the  first  time  in  many  years,  gave  the  little 
village  a  generous  notice  in  the  daily  press. 

We  find  here  a  polite  and  agreeable  society,  the 
legacy  of  a  somewhat  notable  past;  the  courtesy 
and  flavor  of  good  old  Dr.  Dwight's  day  still  re- 
main. For  the  village  was  once  the  home  of  that 
eminent  divine;  the  parish  was  his  first  charge; 
in  the  old  academy  which  has  been  mentioned, 
his  famous  school  was  kept;  and  tucked  away  in 
cupboards  and  secretaries  of  the  old  colonial 
houses  we  find  now  and  then  a  time-stained 
and  moldy  copy  of  his  still  more  famous  poem, 
"  Greenfield  Hill "  —  a  poem  in  which  rural 
delights,  grave  historical  events  and  prophetic 
visions  are  blended  with  considerable  poetic  skill 
and  ingenuity.  We  had  the  pleasure  of  handling 
one  of  these,  a  small  volume  in  homely  binding, 
as  was  the  fashion  of  books  in  1794.  The  poem 
is  in  seven  parts.  We  have  copied  the  heads  of 
the  arguments:  I.  The  Prospect.  II.  The  Flour- 
ishing Village.  III.  The  burning  of  Fairfield. 
IV.  The  Destruction  of  the  Pequots.  V.  The 
Clergyman's  Advice  to  the  Villagers.  VI.  The 
Farmer's  Advice  to  the  Villagers.  VII.  The 


Greenfield  Hill,  A  Once  Famous  Village  219 

Vision,  or  Prospect  of  the  Future  Happiness  of 
America. 

About  Dr.  Dwight's  pastorate  village  memories 
naturally  cluster.  He  became  pastor  here  in  1783, 
after  a  most  precocious  boyhood.  It  is  said  of  him 
that  he  read  the  Bible  at  four,  studied  Latin  by 
himself  at  six,  and  was  fitted  for  college  at  eight. 
In  1765,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  he  entered  Yale 
College,  was  graduated  at  seventeen,  and  became 
a  tutor  in  his  college  at  nineteen.  In  1777  he  en- 
tered the  Revolutionary  army  as  chaplain,  where, 
like  his  friend  Joel  Barlow,  he  exerted  a  happier 
influence  on  the  soldiers  by  his  lyrics  than  by  his 
sermons.  It  was  after  leaving  the  army  that  he 
assumed  charge  of  the  church  at  Greenfield  Hill. 
There  are  old  residents  in  the  village  who  still  re- 
member the  Doctor,  who  died  at  New  Haven  in 
1817.  Our  most  pleasant  employment  is  to  sit 
under  a  venerable  elm  near  the  common  with  one 
of  these  worthy  old  gentlemen,  and  listen  to  tales 
of  the  former  glory  of  the  village. 

"  Dr.  D wight, "  he  began,  on  our  first  interview, 
"came  here  on  a  very  insufficient  salary,  and  to 
eke  it  out  he  opened  an  academy  for  young  people. 
Over  yonder  there  stood  a  little  brown  shop  where 
Gershom  Hubbell  dressed  leather  and  then  fash- 


220  In  Olde  Connecticut 

ioned  it  into  breeches  of  excellent  cut  and  work- 
manship, while  his  daughter  was  noted  for  her 
skill  as  a  glovemaker.  This  shop  the  Doctor  se- 
cured, and  his  first  school  session  was  opened 
there  as  early  as  1784,  if  not  earlier.  The  Acad- 
emy was  built  for  him  in  1785  or  1786,  and  after 
that  his  school  rapidly  became  one  of  the  most 
famous  in  the  country.  He  had  an  ambition  to 
be  thought  one  of  the  best  educators  of  the  day. 
His  boys,  intended  for  Yale,  were  better  fitted,  it 
is  said,  than  those  of  any  other  graduate.  Schol- 
ars soon  began  to  come  irom  all  parts  of  the  world 
to  study  under  him.  In  the  early  class  were  two 
Livingstons  from  Hudson  River;  Dubois,  from 
France;  Charles  H.  Pond,  who  later  became  Lieu- 
tenant-Go vernor  of  Connecticut;  Joel  R.  Poin- 
sett,  Minister  to  Mexico  and  Secretary  of  War; 
two  Capers  from  South  Carolina,  and  Henry  Bald- 
win, afterward  a  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
the  United  States.  Contemporary  with  these  was 
a  class  of  young  ladies — the  three  Misses  Burr, 
of  Fairfield;  Miss  Young,  of  Bridgeport;  Sally 
Nichols,  of  Newtown,  and  others — said  to  have 
been  a  class  of  remarkable  beauty.  A  little  ro- 
mance came  of  this  juxtaposition,  too,  for  in  the 
Fairfield  records  you  will  find  recorded  the  mar- 


Greenfield  Hill,  A  Once  Famous  Village    221 

riage  of  Abigail  Burr  to  William  Henry  Capers, 
of  the  parish  of  St.  Helena,  S.  C. 

"  In  the  school  there  were  two  daily  sessions  of 
three  hours  each.  Wednesday  was  a  red-letter 
day:  in  the  afternoon  the  boys  declaimed,  after 
which  came  a  spelling-bee,  the  winners  being  let 
out  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  others  as  a 
reward.  In  the  evening  the  Doctor  lectured  on 
theology — lectures  which  he  afterward  published 
in  a  volume.  In  private  life  Doctor  D wight  was 
very  genial  and  hospitable,  and  kept  open  house; 
he  was  so  famous,  too,  that  many  travelers  and 
gentlemen  of  distinction  would  come  to  Greenfield 
to  call  on  him.  But  those  days  passed,  and  have 
never  come  again.  On  the  death  of  President 
Stiles,  of  Yale  College,  Doctor  Dwight  was  called 
to  the  Presidency,  and  removed  thither  in  1795. " 

"  An  old  tavern  stood  on  that  corner, "  said  the 
same  narrator,  as  we  joined  him  another  day  un- 
der the  elms,  "that  some  of  you  clever  young 
men  might  make  something  of  if  you  would 
dig  out  the  facts.  It  was  kept  by  Joseph  Bulkley 
at  the  time  Doctor  Dwight  lived  in  Greenfield, 
and  some  famous  men  were  entertained  there 
first  and  last.  Talleyrand  and  the  Spanish  Min- 
ister (whose  name  I  forget)  once  dined  there.  It 


222  In  Olde  Connecticut 

was  a  famous  resort  for  the  judges  and  lawyers 
when  the  County  Court  was  in  session  at  Fair-field; 
such  men  as  Chief  Justice  Reeve,  Uriah  Tracy, 
and  Gideon  Granger  have  often  been  its  guests. 
Rufus  King,  our  Minister  to  England;  Joel  Bar- 
low, our  Minister  to  France,  with  his  wife,  who 
was  a  sister  of  Judge  Henry  Baldwin;  Gen.  Rufus 
Putnam,  of  Ohio,  and  many  others,  I  have  myself 
seen  there.  They  don't  have  such  merrymakings 
now  as  used  to  be  held  in  the  old  tavern.  In  win- 
ter there  was  a  dance  about  once  a  month,  with 
Mose  Sturges  to  fiddle,  and  wine  and  plum  cake 
for  the  feast.  Dr.  D wight  usually  made  it  a  point 
to  come  in,  take  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  piece  of 
cake,  tell  a  good  story,  and  withdraw  at  a  decorous 
hour. " 

Sometimes  a  spasm  of  activity  seizes  us,  and  we 
explore  the  surrounding  country;  I  might  have 
said  the  neighboring  wilderness.  Five  miles  west 
is  the  valley  of  the  Saugatuck,  and  by  following 
it  a  few  yards  above  where  the  Greenfield  road 
strikes  it,  we  enter  a  deep,  romantic  gorge,  which 
would  have  excited  the  raptures  of  many  a  trav- 
eler ere  this  had  it  been  placed  in  Nevada  or  Ari- 
zona. There  is  a  dark  wooded  mountain  on  the 
right,  and  on  the  left,  fifty  feet  down,  at  the  foot 


Greenfield  Hill,  A  Once  Famous  Village     223 

of  a  precipice,  the  river  tumbling  and  foaming  over 
ledges  of  rock.  We  follow  the  brawling  stream 
for  two  miles  through  thick  woods,  without  seeing 
a  vestige  of  human  habitation  save  a  charcoal- 
burner's  deserted  hut,  or  meeting  anyone  except 
the  charcoal  man  on  his  huge  spreading  wagon  of 
coal,  bound  to  market,  and  then  come  suddenly 
on  a  little  hamlet  of  neatly  painted  houses  clus- 
tered about  several  low  workshops  on  the  bank  of 
the  river.  The  place,  we  learned,  was  called  the 
Forge.  This  wildness,  it  must  be  remembered, 
was  within  four  or  five  miles  of  the  belt  of  popu- 
lous communities  which  skirt  the  Connecticut 
shore  of  the  Sound. 

The  valley  of  the  Mill  River,  two  miles  east,  is 
equally  wild  and  romantic.  In  one  of  its  spurs 
(a  huge  mass  of  ledges  and  precipitous  rocks,  in 
itself  well  worthy  a  visit)  is  a  great  natural  or  ar- 
tificial curiosity,  which  has  long  puzzled  the  curi- 
ous. It  is  a  deep,  smooth  round  hole  in  the  rock 
of  from  twelve  to  sixteen  quarts  capacity.  Tradi- 
tion ascribes  its  origin  to  the  Indians  of  the  valley. 
It  is  certain  that  it  was  used  by  them  for  genera- 
tions as  a  mortar  in  which  to  pound  the  corn 
raised  on  the  adjacent  lowlands;  and  whole  fam- 
ilies must  have  gathered  there,  for  the  rock  about 


224  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  mortar  is  worn  smooth  by  the  tread  of  many 
feet. 

If  we  drive  southward  we  enter  on  different 
scenes.  Here  are  farms  in  the  highest  state  of 
cultivation,  with  buildings  and  lawns  denoting 
both  wealth  and  taste  on  the  part  of  the  owners. 
It  is  the  home  of  the  onion-grower.  Nothing 
seems  to  grow  but  onions  between  Greenfield  Hill 
and  the  sea.  We  pass  many  fields  of  five  to  ten 
acres  each,  and  hear  of  growers  who  raise  all  the 
way  from  ten  to  twenty-five  acres  of  the  pungent 
bulbs. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   BEGINNINGS   OF   A   GREAT   RAILROAD 

THE  law  papers  and  many  private  papers  of 
the  Hon.  Roger  Sherman,  one  of  the  most 
prominent  jurists  of  his  day,  are  now  in  posses- 
sion of  the  Fairfield  County  Historical  Society  in 
Bridgeport.  Among  them  is  a  series  of  interest- 
ing documents,  showing  in  a  vivid  way  the  violent 
opposition  encountered  by  the  now  dominant  rail- 
road in  making  its  way  into  this  conservative 
region. 

The  first  passenger  railroad  constructed  in  the 
United  States  was  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio,  a  sec- 
tion of  which  was  formally  opened  July  4,  1828, 
the  first  locomotive  for  it  being  built  by  Peter 
Cooper  in  Baltimore.  The  second  was  the  Mo- 
hawk and  Hudson,  from  Albany  to  Schenectady, 
opened  in  1830.  By  1833  the  fever  of  railroad 
building  had  extended  into  Connecticut,  and  on 
the  first  Wednesday  of  May,  1833,  the  Connecti- 
cut Legislature  constituted  as  a  body  politic  and 
o 


226  In  Olde  Connecticut 

corporate  the  Hartford  and  New  Haven  Railroad, 
with  power  to  "locate,  construct,  and  fully  com- 
plete a  single,  double,  or  treble  railroad  or  way" 
from  Hartford  to  the  navigable  waters  of  New  Ha- 
ven Harbor.  This  was  the  first  railroad  opened 
in  the  State,  although  the  "  Boston,  Norwich  and 
New  London"  had  been  chartered  the  May  pre- 
vious. It  is  significant  of  the  slow  and  halting 
manner  in  which  its  projectors  felt  their  way,  so 
to  speak,  that  it  was  empowered  to  use  as  motors 
"  the  power  and  force  of  steam,  of  animals,  or  of 
any  mechanical  or  other  power  or  any  combina- 
tion of  them. "  It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  only 
fifty  years  have  elapsed  since  this  project  startled 
the  sleepy  villages  strung  along  the  turnpikes  that 
then  connected  the  capital  cities  of  Connecticut, 
and  that  there  are  men  still  living  along  the  route 
who  remember  the  commotion  it  raised.  Almost 
everyone,  except  its  promoters,  opposed  it,  on  gen- 
eral principles,  from  the  natural  conservatism  of 
rural  residents,  and  utter  ignorance  of  the  nature 
and  scope  of  the  proposed  way.  But  there  were 
three  different  classes — shrewd  men,  who  opposed 
it  from  interest,  with  full  knowledge,  probably,  of 
its  possibilities,  and  these  were  the  directors  and 
stockholdres  of  the  turnpikes,  the  managers  of  the 


The  Beginnings  of  a  Great  Railroad     227 

steamboat  lines,  that  on  the  breaking  of  the  Ful- 
ton-Livingston monopoly  had  sprung  up,  and  were 
enjoying  a  lucrative  carrying  trade  with  a  score  of 
points  on  the  Sound,  and  the  farmers  through 
whose  land  the  proposed  route  would  pass. 

The  nature  and  extent  of  this  opposition  is  ad- 
mirably shown  in  a  memorial  addressed  to  the 
Legislature  of  1832,  evidently  drawn  up  by  Judge 
Sherman,  and  signed  by  Simeon  Baldwin,  J. 
Wood,  Roger  M.  Sherman,  Wm.  Bristol,  and 
Epaphroditus  Champion,  "overseers  of  turnpike 
stock. "  There  are  two  remarkable  things  about 
this  document — that  it  could  be  dated  so  recently 
as  fifty  years  ago,  and  the  prescience  of  its  authors 
in  so  clearly  foretelling  the  evils  likely  to  result  to 
the  public  from  the  exclusive  privileges  granted 
such  corporations.  I  insert  the  document  for  its 
picturesque  and  historic  interest: 

"Your  memorialists,  to  their  very  great  sur- 
prise, have  lately  been  informed  that  a  petition 
is  now  pending  before  your  honorable  body  which 
has  been  referred  to  a  joint  committee  of  both 
houses  for  the  incorporation  of  a  railroad  from 
Hartford  to  New  Haven.  However  beneficial  in 
general  such  improvement  may  be,  it  is  very  cer- 
tain that  they  may  be  adopted  under  such  circum- 


228  In  Olde  Connecticut 

stances  as  to  produce  more  harm  than  good,  and 
may  result  in  great  injury  and  injustice  to  private 
property.  A  railroad  is  a  monopoly  in  a  peculiar 
sense.  On  a  canal  or  turnpike  every  citizen  has 
a  perfect  right  to  use  his  own  vehicles — not  so  on 
a  railroad.  The  carriages  upon  that  must  all  be- 
long to  the  proprietors  of  the  road,  or  run  by  their 
especial  permission,  and  must  be  subject  to  one 
superintendence.  In  the  monopoly  now  contem- 
plated your  memorialists  are  informed  and  be- 
lieve that,  although  no  names  appear  on  petition 
but  those  of  the  citizens  of  this  State,  yet  a  great 
majority  of  the  interest  is  to  be  owned  and  held 
by  strangers,  citizens  of  other  States,  proprietors 
in  those  great  and  overwhelming  establishments 
of  steamboats  and  railroads  which  now  monopo- 
lize the  conveyance  of  passengers  between  the 
cities  of  New  York  and  Philadelphia,  and  are  en- 
deavoring to  seize  the  exclusive  right  through  this 
State  and  Long  Island  Sound,  and  unite  the  whole 
with  such  additions  as  they  may  hereafter  acquire 
under  one  power.  Should  they,  by  the  aid  of  leg- 
islative grants  and  immense  and  increasing  wealth, 
extend  into  Massachusetts  and  reach  the  capital 
of  New  England,  a  traveler  who  would  enjoy  the 
advantages  of  a  conveyance  between  Boston  and 


The  Beginnings  of  a  Great  Railroad    229 

Washington  must  submit  to  such  terms  as  they 
please  to  prescribe.  No  line  of  steamboats  not 
connected  with  that  company  could  partake  of  the 
right  of  conveying  passengers  on  these  long  and 
frequented  routes.  A  passenger  entered  at  Bos- 
ton or  Hartford  for  Philadelphia  or  Washington 
would  pay  his  fare  at  the  commencement  of  his 
journey,  and  be  lost  to  every  intermediate  convey- 
ance. Thus  all  competition  would  be  put  down, 
and  the  great  sums  now  invested  by  and  exten- 
sively divided  among  our  citizens,  tending  to  cheap- 
ness and  convenience  as  well  as  to  equality  of 
rights  and  privileges,  would  be  annihilated,  and 
the  expense  of  traveling  would  depend  on  the  will 
and  pleasure  of  that  united  interest  which  would 
find  its  advantage  in  the  highest  possible  rates  of 
fare. 

"  By  the  grant  now  contemplated,  four  turnpike 
companies  between  New  Haven  and  Hartford,  in 
which  many  widows,  orphans  and  persons  in  mod- 
erate circumstances  have  invested  their  property, 
the  steam  navigation  from  Hartford  to  New  York, 
the  steamboats  between  the  latter  city  and  New 
Haven,  and  many  other  of  the  vested  interests  of 
our  own  citizens  would  be  utterly  destroyed. " 

All  of  the  memorialists  had  investments  in  some 


230  In  Olde  Connecticut 

of  these  establishments,  and  they  humbly  prayed 
in  behalf  of  themselves  and  others  in  like  circum- 
stances, that  the  charter  might  not  be  granted. 

We  are  apt  to  speak  of  monopolies  as  of  mod- 
ern growth,  but  that  called  "  The  Fulton  Steam- 
boat Company, "  which  certain  "  acts  "  of  the  New 
York  Legislature  had  created,  far  exceeded  in 
powers  and  privileges  any  known  in  our  day.  A 
petition  found  among  the  papers  goes  on  to  re- 
cite various  acts,  forming  precedents,  under  which 
it  had  grown  up :  First,  the  act  of  1787,  giving  to 
John  Fitch  the  sole  right  of  employing  and  navi- 
gating for  a  limited  time  all  vessels  on  New  York 
waters  impelled  by  steam;  second,  the  act  of  1798, 
withdrawing  the  exclusive  right  given  to  Fitch, 
bestowing  it  on  Robert  Livingston,  and  extend- 
ing the  time  to  twenty  years;  third,  the  act  of 
1803,  extending  the  time  to  twenty  years  from 
that  date,  and  including  Robert  Fulton  as  one 
of  the  privileged;  fourth,  the  act  of  1808,  provid- 
ing that  whenever  Livingston,  Fulton,  and  such 
persons  as  they  should  associate  with  them, 
should  place  on  this  line  additional  boats,  each 
one  so  added  should  prolong  the  term  of  exclu- 
sive privilege  by  five  years,  such  terms  in  toto, 
however,  not  to  exceed  thirty  years;  fifth,  the  act 


The  Beginnings  of  a  Great  Railroad     231 

of  1811,  making  it  possible  for  the  persons  named 
in  the  act  or  their  associates  to  seize  any  boat, 
not  having  their  license,  found  in  waters  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  New  York,  and  to  condemn 
them  as  though  the  same  had  been  taken  forcibly 
and  wrongfully  out  of  their  possession,  and  forbid- 
ding the  owners  of  such  boat  to  obtain  any  writ 
of  injunction  to  navigate,  employ  or  remove  them 
out  of  the  jurisdiction  of  the  court  during  the  pen- 
dency of  the  trial  of  such  seizure.  The  petition 
then  goes  on  to  recite  that  Livingston  and  Fulton 
had  complied  with  the  various  provisions  of  the 
acts  in  question,  and  had  become  possessed  of  the 
privileges  conferred ;  that  they  had  since  died,  but 
that  previous  to  their  death,  they  had  sold  to  Jo- 
siah  Ogden  Hoffman,  Cadwallader  D.  Golden  and 
William  Cutting,  the  exclusive  right,  so  far  as  they 
possessed  it,  to  navigate  the  waters  of  the  East 
River  in  the  State  of  New  York,  "or  the  Sound 
commonly  called  Long  Island  Sound,"  by  means  of 
steam  or  fire,  and  also  a  right  to  the  exclusive  use 
of  the  inventions  of  Fulton  and  Livingston;  that 
the  former  gentlemen,  with  their  associates,  had 
since  been  incorporated  by  the  Legislature  of  New 
York  as  the  Fulton  Steamboat  Company,  to  which, 
by  sundry  assignments  or  conveyances,  all  the  ex- 


232  In  Olde  Connecticut 

elusive  rights  and  privileges  of  Fulton  and  Living- 
ston had  been  conveyed.  The  complaint  further 
alleged  that  the  Fulton  Steamboat  Company  had 
then  two  steamboats  plying  on  the  waters  lying 
between  New  York  and  New  London,  and  that 
there  were  no  other  boats  whatever  "  employed  in 
the  navigation  from  any  part  of  the  State  of  New 
York  to  any  place  without  the  said  State  and  ly- 
ing on  the  Sound  aforesaid. "  Having  recited 
these  facts,  the  petitioners  next  remind  the  Court 
that  by  virtue  of  the  Constitution  and  laws  of  the 
United  States,  they  have  the  right  to  navigate  any 
of  the  waters  of  New  York,  and  particularly  those 
used  in  the  navigation  between  New  York  and 
other  States;  which  right  was  denied  them  by  the 
acts  mentioned,  and  by  the  threats  of  enforcement 
made  by  the  Fulton  Steamboat  Company;  also, 
that  they  could  not  have  recourse  to  the  common 
law,  as  the  moment  their  vessel  entered  the  waters 
of  New  York,  it  was  liable  to  seizure  and  practi- 
cal confiscation;  and  they  therefore  prayed  for  a 
writ  of  injunction  restraining  the  Fulton  Steam- 
boat Company  from  bringing  any  action  or  suit 
in  any  court  of  the  State  of  New  York,  under 
color  of  the  said  acts,  until  the  right  of  the  peti- 
tioners should  be  fully  ascertained.  They  also 


The  Beginnings  of  a  Great  Railroad     233 

prayed  for  an  order  directing  the  Fulton  Steam- 
boat Company  to  appear,  and  show  cause  why 
the  injunction  should  not  be  granted. 

John  L.  Sullivan  was  the  inventor  and  patentee 
of  a  steam  engine  of  a  different  character  from 
that  employed  by  Fulton  in  his  boats.  His  peti- 
tion for  an  injunction  was  brought  on  the  advice 
of  Roger  Sherman,  who,  in  September,  1819,  for- 
warded him  a  very  elaborate  opinion,  advising  an 
injunction,  which  now  lies  before  me.  It  appears 
by  a  letter  to  Judge  Sherman  from  Henry  D.  Sedg- 
wick,  Esq.,  of  New  York,  dated  October  11,  1819, 
that  the  petition  was  met  by  the  defendants  with 
a  demurrer,  assigning  as  causes  that  the  complain- 
ants had  not  made  a  case  entitling  them  to  relief; 
that  the  bill  contained  no  equity;  that  the  ques- 
tion was  proper  only  for  a  court  of  law ;  that  com- 
plainants had  an  adequate  remedy  at  law,  and 
that  before  filing  the  bill  the  case  should  have  been 
tried  at  law ;  and,  sixth,  that  none  of  the  adminis- 
trators or  next  of  kin  of  Fulton  and  Livingston 
were  made  parties  to  the  suit;  Sedgwick  adds  that 
he  does  not  believe  the  assigned  causes  of  de- 
murrer sufficient. 

The  case  was  one  of  the  causes  cdebres  of  the 
day,  and  awakened  wide  interest,  but  ultimately 


234  In  Olde  Connecticut 

ended  in  a  breaking  of  the  monopoly  by  the  courts. 
On  looking  over  these  time-stained  documents  the 
query  is  suggested,  what  would  be  thought  now  of 
a  corporation  that  claimed  and  held  the  exclusive 
control  of  the  commerce  of  the  Hudson  and  of 
Long  Island  Sound  ? — for  this  was  practically  the 
privilege  of  the  Fulton  Steamboat  Company  in 
1819. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  PROBATE  JUDGE  AND  THE  TOWN  CLERK 

TN  the  quiet  Connecticut  village  whence  we 
•1  write,  there  are  three  great  men — the  minis- 
ter, the  doctor  and  the  judge  of  probate.  All 
other  men  may  sit  in  the  "store"  of  evenings, 
"swap"  stories,  and  discuss  their  neighbors,  but 
these  three  by  the  very  dignity  of  their  office  are 
foresworn.  The  judge  is  nearing  the  age  limit  of 
seventy,  slender,  grizzled,  with  a  typical  New  Eng- 
land face.  He  wears  a  tall  hat,  long  frock  coat, 
and  trousers  of  sober  hue,  a  little  shiny  from  long 
wear. 

His  house — just  across  the  common  from  the 
village  tavern,  our  domicile — with  its  lofty  portico 
supported  by  fluted  pillars,  its  carved  front  door 
with  brass  knocker,  wide  cornice  and  dormer  win- 
dows, is  most  imposing.  The  judge's  office  occu- 
pies an  L  on  the  left  of  the  main  structure,  and 
communicates  with  his  sitting  room  by  a  door  cut 
through  the  dividing  partition  so  that  he  can  step 


236  In  Olde  Connecticut 

into  his  office  these  days  without  exposing  himself 
to  the  nipping  air.  His  office  is  sui  generis. 
Nothing  like  it  is  to  be  found  outside  of  New 
England.  There  is  an  iron  safe  where  wills  and 
inventories  for  a  hundred  years  back  are  kept, 
copied  into  huge,  parchment-bound  tomes,  a  book- 
case filled  with  law  books,  quaint  old  armchairs 
with  claw  feet,  an  ancient  desk  with  pigeon-holes 
full  of  papers,  and  a  huge  Franklin  stove,  which 
on  a  January  day  with  the  thermometer  ten  de- 
grees below  zero,  has  a  capacity  for  radiating  com- 
fort undreamed  of  by  those  who  sit  beside  its  de- 
generate successors.  The  judge  will  burn  nothing 
but  hickory,  and  "Pete,"  his  man  of  all  work, 
cuts  without  orders  every  year  two  of  the  giants 
in  the  hickory  grove  beyond  the  calf  pasture  to 
fill  the  stove's  capacious  maw. 

The  judge  of  probate  is  in  a  special  sense  the 
"little  father"  of  the  people  of  his  district.  For 
forty  years  it  has  been  his  duty  to  declare  persons 
legally  dead,  and  to  turn  over  all  they  died  pos- 
sessed of,  to  the  legatees — if  they  left  a  will — or 
to  the  next  of  kin,  if  they  died  intestate.  To  him 
widows  look  for  an  allowance  during  the  settle- 
ment of  their  husbands'  estates;  to  him  minor 
children  appeal  that  a  whole  or  a  part  of  their 


The  Probate  Judge  and  the  Town  Clerk  237 

portion  of  their  father's  estate  may  be  sold  and 
the  proceeds  devoted  to  their  support;  he  is  the 
custodian  of  all  wills,  inventories  and  distributions 
of  estates,  counsellor  in  all  questions  of  law  affect- 
ing wills  and  the  final  disposal  of  property;  a 
magistrate  to  hear  and  decide  all  claims  against 
estates  where  the  inventory  thereof  does  not  ex- 
ceed $2,000. 

A  desire  to  gather  some  scattered  threads  of 
family  history  led  us  to  consult  the  leather-clad 
volumes  in  the  judge's  safe,  and  many  of  the  long 
cold  days  of  last  winter  were  passed  in  his  office. 
One  day  a  family  party  drove  up  in  carriages, 
men  and  women  alighted,  and  filed  into  the  judge's 
office,  legatees  under  the  will  or  kindred  of  one  of 
the  solid  men  of  the  town  who  had  just  died, 
gathered  to  listen  to  the  reading  of  the  will. 

At  such  times  and  when  he  is  holding  court, 
the  judge  appears  at  his  best.  He  was  more  care- 
fully brushed  than  usual  this  time,  his  manner 
was  more  judicial  and  consolatory,  as  befitted  so 
sad  and  solemn  an  occasion.  The  faces  of  the 
party  were  a  study.  Some  knew  they  had  been 
ignored,  some  that  they  had  been  remembered; 
others  evidently  were  quite  uncertain  what  the  in- 
strument had  in  store  for  them.  The  reading  was 


238  In  Olde  Connecticut 

soon  over,  however,  and  the  party  filed  out,  some 
faces  radiant,  others  depressed  or  defiant,  as  if 
promising  a  future  contest. 

Another  time  there  drove  up  in  a  mud-bespat- 
tered carriage  that  had  brought  him  from  the  sta- 
tion, four  miles  away,  a  small,  modest  appearing 
gentleman  with  a  legal  air,  who  proved  to  be  one 
of  the  greatest  lawyers  of  the  metropolis.  He 
wished  to  find  the  parentage  of  his  great-grand- 
mother, Huldah  May,  who  had  been  born  in  the 
old  town  a  hundred  years  before,  but  the  record 
of  whose  birth  could  not  be  found,  in  either  the 
town  records  (in  possession  of  the  town  clerk)  or 
in  the  parish  records  of  the  Prime  Ancient  So- 
ciety, held  by  the  clerk  of  the  Congregational 
Church  in  the  village,  although  a  standing  offer 
of  $500  for  the  entry  had  been  made  by  him  the 
year  before. 

At  the  close  of  the  Revolution,  the  victorious 
Whigs  having  banished  the  Tories  and  confiscated 
their  estates,  were  so  incensed  against  anything  of 
English  savor  that  they  refused  to  keep  the  vital 
statistics  of  their  towns  because  it  was  the  custom 
in  England  to  do  so;  consequently  from  1781  to 
1830  the  genealogist  finds  the  most  maddening  and 
deplorable  hiatus  in  the  volumes  that  recorded  the 


The  Probate  Judge  and  the  Town  Clerk  239 

births  and  deaths  of  the  rural  towns,  and  which 
before  that  historic  struggle  were  kept  with  praise- 
worthy fidelity. 

Nothing  annoys  the  judge  more  than  the  curi- 
osity of  the  villagers  at  every  death  as  to  whether 
or  no  the  deceased  left  a  will — if  he  did,  as  to  who 
were  the  legatees,  and  the  amount  of  his  estate, 
and  a  persistent  quizzing  of  him  in  order  to  find 
out.  He  parries  questioners  quite  skillfully,  how- 
ever, by  reminding  them  that  the  records  in  ques- 
tion may  be  examined  by  anyone  during  the  legal 
hours. 

The  town  clerk  is  another  worthy  of  our  village 
community.  His  office  must  have  been  instituted 
away  back  in  the  twilight  of  the  race  when  men, 
growing  out  of  the  family  and  tribal  relation,  be- 
gan to  found  organized  communities  and  needed 
an  official  to  record  their  doings.  Here  the  town 
clerk  has  also  been  our  neighbor.  He  is  the  beau 
ideal  of  a  scholar — tall,  bent,  thin-visaged,  and 
stoop-shouldered  from  long  poring  over  his  rec- 
ords. Fidelity  to  duty  is  stamped  on  every  linea- 
ment. He  has  no  office  hours.  You  are  free  to 
examine  the  records  in  his  office  from  seven  o'clock 
in  the  morning  until  ten  at  night.  He  rarely  goes 
out,  except  to  the  Congregational  Church — of 


240  In  Olde  Connecticut 

which  he  is  one  of  the  pillars — on  Sundays,  and 
to  town  meetings.  All  his  remaining  hours  are 
spent  among  his  huge  tomes,  writing,  or  turning 
over  musty  leaves  in  search  of  some  elusive  Amin- 
adab  or  Ebenezer,  Charity  or  Patience,  or  Esther, 
ancestor  or  ancestress  of  some  gentle  enthusiast 
across  the  Continent  maybe,  who  needs  but  this 
missing  link  to  complete  a  family  tree. 

For  fifty  successive  years  at  the  annual  town 
meetings  his  fellow  citizens  have  elected  him  their 
town  clerk,  and  this  without  his  having  expressed 
the  slightest  desire  for  a  reelection.  His  father 
served  fifty  years  before  him.  He  has  a  son  to 
whom  it  may  descend,  for  the  townspeople  seem- 
ingly look  on  the  ofiice  as  hereditary.  The  town 
clerk  lacks  that  reverence  and  respect  accorded  his 
fellow  official,  the  judge  of  probate,  because  of  the 
latter's  judicial  capacity.  For  keeping  its  records 
the  town  pays  its  clerk  the  munificent  salary  of 
fifty  dollars  per  year.  But  this  by  no  means  rep- 
resents the  total  of  his  income,  for  there  are  many 
fees  and  perquisites — so  much  for  recording  a 
deed;  so  much  for  administering  an  oath;  so 
much  for  a  certified  copy  of  any  instrument  in 
his  office,  so  much  for  searching  the  records;  so 
that  on  the  whole  he  gets  a  very  tidy  salary  out 


The  Probate  Judge  and  the  Town  Clerk  241 

of  it.  We  are  of  opinion  that  his  largest  gains 
come  from  those  genealogically  inclined.  There 
would  be  more  return  but  that  his  conscience  will 
permit  him  to  charge  but  fifty  cents  an  hour  for 
his  services. 

There  are  perhaps  thirty  portly  leather-covered 
volumes  which  must  be  examined  in  making  these 
researches.  These  are  records  of  births,  mar- 
riages and  deaths,  going  back  to  1670;  the  earli- 
est are  still  quite  legible.  There  are  some  curious 
things  about  them,  for  instance  the  births  of  the 
several  children  in  a  family  are  all  recorded  at 
the  same  time,  having  evidently  been  brought  in 
by  the  father,  who  copied  them  from  his  family 
Bible,  and  generally  prefaced  them  by  giving  the 
marriage  of  himself  and  wife.  Some  dates  are 
given  "  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief. " 
Whether  there  was  a  law  making  this  obligatory, 
is  not  known.  They  occur  during  the  term  of  of- 
fice of  one  clerk  only,  and  may  have  been  brought 
in  at  his  request.  Some  of  the  town  clerks  were 
of  a  frugal  turn  of  mind,  and  used  old  account 
books  and  ledgers  for  registers.  These  are  quite 
valuable  to  the  snapper  up  of  unconsidered  trifles, 
as  showing  the  value  of  articles  in  common  use 
at  that  time. 


242  In  Olde  Connecticut 

It  is  very  interesting  to  the  town-bred  man  to 
sit  in  the  clerk's  office  and  study  the  callers.  Some 
few  are  townspeople,  but  the  majority  are  students 
of  family.  We  had  no  idea  before  of  the  interest 
taken  in  genealogical  studies  by  our  fellow  Ameri- 
cans. There  are  men  and  women,  old  and  young, 
of  all  sorts  and  conditions,  but  most  of  them,  of 
course,  of  culture  and  some  amount  of  wealth. 
For  250  years  the  old  town  has  been  pouring  her 
best  blood  and  brawn  into  the  insatiate  maw 
of  the  cities  and  of  the  great  West,  and  the  de- 
scendants of  these  "pilgrims"  are  now  coming 
back  to  the  mother  town  to  learn  whence  they 
came.  The  old  official  is  very  patient  with  them, 
for  he  is  a  genealogical  enthusiast  himself,  and  is 
often  able  to  give  them  a  clue  or  a  fresh  scent, 
when  the  chase  seemed  hopeless.  He  has  never 
been  known  to  accept  a  fee  for  this  particular  ser- 
vice, although  many  have  been  tendered.  When 
visitors  have  exhausted  the  records  of  his  office, 
he  sends  them  to  his  neighbor,  the  judge  of  pro- 
bate, across  the  street,  and  to  the  slender,  spec- 
tacled young  man  on  his  right,  who  acts  as 
clerk  of  the  Prime  Ancient  Society,  and  has  one 
thin  volume  of  baptisms,  marriages,  and  deaths 
going  back  to  1670,  which  contains  more  names 


The  Probate  Judge  and  the  Town  Clerk  243 

than  all  the  town  clerk's  portly  volumes  com- 
bined. 

We  witnessed  in  his  office,  one  January  after- 
noon, a  somewhat  pathetic  incident.  A  farmer 
with  wrinkled  face  and  shoulders  bent  with  toil, 
came  in  to  have  a  deed  recorded.  "At  last, 
'squire, "  cried  he,  his  face  radiant  and  eyes  beam- 
ing, "  I  have  got  the  old  place  clear.  Here's  the 
last  quitclaim  deed  from  brother  Hiram,  away  out 
in  New  Zealand.  All  the  other  heirs  quitclaimed 
long  ago.  Rob  is  in  San  Francisco,  Tom  in  Rio 
Janeiro,  Harriet  in  Iowa — how  we  are  scattered! 
He  sends  back  my  check  for  $500,  too — his  share — 
says  he's  got  more  than  he  can  manage  now,  and 
to  use  it  in  keeping  the  old  place  up.  Says  if  he 
should  happen  to  lose  his  pile,  he'll  come  back  and 
board  it  out.  Rather  handsome  of  Hi,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

The  old  clerk  agrees  that  it  was,  and,  taking 
down  a  dusty  docket,  proceeds  to  record  the  deed 
therein. 

It  is  at  town  meetings,  however,  that  our  friend 
appears  to  most  advantage.  It  is  then  made  ap- 
parent to  every  voter  that  he  has  the  town  busi- 
ness at  his  fingers'  ends;  that  he  is  the  one  who 
oils  the  wheels  of  the  town's  machinery,  so  that 
they  run  smoothly.  He  sits  at  a  small  desk  on 


244  In  Olde  Connecticut 

the  right  hand  of  the  moderator,  a  little  below  the 
raised  dais  on  which  the  latter  stands.  The  mod- 
erator, portly,  florid,  with  basso  profundo  voice, 
and  grandiloquent  manner,  is  a  figurehead  merely. 
Anyone  can  see  that  his  prompter  and  whole  de- 
pendence in  bringing  forward  the  different  heads  of 
the  town  business,  is  the  calm,  modest,  spectacled 
man  at  his  right.  The  latter  records  only  the  mo- 
tions, resolutions  and  votes;  to  take  down  the 
fiery  eloquence,  the  witticisms,  the  tales  that  point 
a  moral,  the  impassioned  appeals,  the  verbal  flay- 
ings  of  this  forum  of  the  people,  would  require  as 
nimble  a  stenographer  as  those  who  serve  in  the 
Capitol  at  Washington.  The  town  clerk  never 
speaks  of  himself;  he  never  seeks  to  influence  leg- 
islation— it  is  his  to  record,  and  he  performs  the 
function  so  acceptably  that  no  rival  appears  in 
the  field  against  him. 


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Being  Suggestions  of  Value  for  all  Inter- 
ested in  Family  History 

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